It's Sad How Much I Enjoy This

Pull Of Life

I suppose I should post something here since that last post could leave folks a little depressed.

Life is good...we have some challenges, but we're confronting them and otherwise I'm really too busy for "leisure writing." Work...the Spurs...trying to start some new ventures...the Spurs...dealing with some car issues which I don't want to dwell upon except to pass along the advice that if you loan someone your car, and it blows up...I'd suggest you not let the same person choose "their mechanic friend" to "fix it."

One of our "Upper Room Ministry" guests, who has since disappeared, let his mechanic friends "work" on my car. After giving these friends several hundred dollars I finally found the remnants of the car and had it towed back home. Not sure if it's reparable but at least I have possession of it. Occasionally the chief "mechanic" on the team I refer to as "Drunk and Drunker" drops by and says he's working on it. I see an oil slick on my driveway. Amy swears she's actually seen him at least once working on the car.

One of our other upper room ministry guests is apparently here for the long haul. It's not like we could throw her out...not with a face like this.



That's Gabby...or Gypsy or Shiloh, depending on who is claiming ownership of her. It appears our steady and "stable" upper room guest "Scott" is going to keep her, which is probably the best thing for her. If not, I'm assuming she'll just become part of the household. She's only a few months old, and her heritage is subject to some debate.

I think her face looks like there's Irish Wolfhound in her, which may make me rethink my sanity (not something I need to do, believe me) but Scott think she's terrier, and maybe part lab. She doesn't seem to be growing too much, although the size of her feet do scare me a bit. This photo doesn't adequately show the paws size in relation to Gabby's body...but suffice it say, they are still a little large for her general stature.





As we wait to see how big she grows, she's providing a lot of entertainment for all of us, and in truth is probably the best behaved dog in the house. Winston and Avery have grown accustomed to her and she's learning how to deal with their possessive quirks...she outruns them.

She's also learning not to be intimidated, as demonstrated by the short quickly produced video below with which I'll leave you because...the Spurs are about to play.

Go Spurs!

Delivered

I wasn't in the best place, the why, when and where questions although germane are not critical. Suffice it to say I was drained. Physically I was sick, hacking with a lingering respiratory invasion, and my body already rebelling from spending several hours walking in an unplanned emotion- and anger-driven march. A steady drizzle added to my already clammy state. It wasn't enough rain for people driving by to think I was crazy for walking in it, but it was enough to add to my misery. As my legs sagged, my cough worsened and my mind struggled to recall the old comic strip with the character who had a perpetual rain cloud about his head...


It wasn't only physical, I was emotionally, financially and most importantly spiritually spent.

I had left home in the same dreary drizzle the night previous, on foot in a stew of self-pity, sleep deprivation and solitude seasoned with healthy doses of anger, self-loathing and occasional sprinkles of near suicidal thoughts. The time away did little to cheer my mood or comfort my fatigued body. My soul had thrown in the towel. I was trudging back home because I had no other place to go, and believe me I tried to think of one, but it was senseless. Unless I wanted to chuck it all, everything in my life, family, job, money, career and my future, I had to eventually get home.

It wasn't easy and as I limped past a car rental place my mind scurried with the scoundrels of escape. "Rent a car, max out a credit card and wherever you land...you start new." The whispers were real as was the temptation, but I don't run away, I may shove people away but I don't run from them.

Besides if anything my night away had proven it was that I was no better for it - probably worse. My feet were swelling, I was still feverish, and I was "ripe" having not even brought a change of clothes with me. I was ill prepared to go to Sonic much less "off the grid."

I had walked a couple of miles when I realized I couldn't make it the rest of the way. My legs were giving out, my lungs ached, my feet were begging for relief and clearly announcing that no option that provided such would be rejected, quite possibly including self-amputation.

I was a mess.

I was alone.

I'd been doing it too long, carrying too much, trying too hard, sleeping too little, eating too sporadically, and trying so hard to hold it all together. I was falling apart.

Worse yet, I'd become so accustomed to never asking for help from anyone that when I needed help I didn't know anyone to call.

Sure, I could call this guy or that guy about the only two people on earth who I truly know would drop everything if I called them these days, but they didn't need my burdens and it would take them longer to come get me than it would for me to tough it out and hoof it home.

So I sat...in the gutter. Actually more of a drainage ditch... a culvert I suppose. I was sitting on the edge but I might as well have been prostrate in the sludge below, I was feeling like crap anyway.


I was talking to God...or maybe just to myself or the wind, who knows? I wasn't sure any more which depressed me further. I couldn't go on like this, I wasn't sure I could even stand up and I didn't want to die on the side of a drainage ditch...I didn't...sometimes I had to repeat that to myself or to the wind or to God...maybe.

I hadn't seen Darnell for I don't know how long. He had been the postal carrier in our neighborhood for years and he and I would regularly talk. He was a devout Christian but had not always been so and we shared war stories of God's battles for our hearts. He was a regular part of my life, not deeply involved, we weren't "friends" so to speak, but we were constants in each other's lives. My schedule coincided with his route and more often than not if we didn't talk almost every day, we exchanged waves or honks of the car horn.

Then he was gone. I knew he was unhappy with some things at the Postal Service and I wondered if he had finally said, "I've done my time, I'll take my pension please."

I wouldn't be surprised were that to be the case. Weeks passed, then months and soon we had a new postal carrier who wasn't "new" any more. He'd been on the job for a year or more. He knows our names, I don't know his. He's not as outwardly friendly as Darnell. He's younger whereas Darnell is around my age although having a job where he actually gets to walk around a bit, go outdoors and be in the sun, he's in better shape, not that that's saying much. In any case, time hasn't left as many outward signs upon him as it has etched upon me.

Darnell was quite possibly the farthest thing from my mind that day.

I took a quick evaluation of my situation. I was dirty, tired, sweating and limping but I had to get up and get moving because by my calculations the odds seemed to be rapidly increasing with each passing minute that my obit would be headlined, "Road kill turns out to be remnants of human."


I was hacking and wiping sweat from my eyes when there it was making an illegal U-turn in the middle of the street...a mail truck. Seconds later Darnell was pulling up along side me saying, "Michael? You don't look well. You okay?"

I thought, "Dear God, I'm freakin' hallucinating, my fever must be through the roof."

Here I was at a point I had never been, a depth of despair and doubt I never foresaw myself falling toward and now Darnell reappears out of nowhere at this exact moment?

"Michael?? Are you okay? You really look sick and you're a little off course from your usual walking path."

It had been years since I walked the neighborhood every day and Darnell was certainly familiar with not only the neighborhood but my walking patterns...when I used to adhere to them.

"It's been a rough 24 hours...I don't have the strength to explain, but where did you come from? I haven't seen you in forever!" I rasped trying not to sound near as horrible as I felt.

"Wrestling demons." That was all he said, and it took me a while to realize he wasn't responding to my question.

He was tersely summing up my situation.


"Let me give you a ride home."

I looked at his postal vehicle, there was only one seat and he was in it...the rest of the truck was stuffed to the rafters with mail. I said, "Doesn't look like you really have room."

He then slid open one of the side doors and said, "There's room if you stand on the running board and are strong enough to hang on. It's illegal, and I could get fired, but hop on."

Seeing Darnell made me feel more alive and I knew there weren't going to be any other offers of a ride. Plus if I turned down this offer it wasn't inconceivable to me that somehow my feet might find a way to strangle me.

I stepped onto the running board, leaned back and gripped the door handle tightly. Seconds later we were zipping down the street.

We didn't share any more words except the admonishment from Darnell, "If anyone says they saw me doing this I'll deny it."

Within minutes he had brought me right to my front door. He didn't need to be reminded where I lived, and he didn't need to know why I was in a different "place" on this particular day. He just knew what he had to do.

"Get some rest," he said as I stepped down from the running board and thanked him while trying not to grimace as my feet reminded me that even the few steps to reach the front door weren't going to be easy. I couldn't imagine how I would have made it home on foot or how long it would have taken me.

"One day, I'll explain this to you Darnell, but believe me seeing you today is a major blessing."

"I'm glad I saw you, although 'officially' I was never here."


He closed the door and then drove away somewhat stealthily, like a gang member knowing he was on the wrong turf.

I stumbled into the house, directly into bed.

I whispered a few words to God, definitely God, before I fell into a deep sleep.

"Oh Lord, forgive me. I should never have let it get this far. I should have reached out to You more, rolled these burdens into Your waiting hands. You can have them now. I'm going to get the rest I need. I will get perspective back. I promise."

"Oh, and thank you Father for Darnell. Your message couldn't have been more clear had it been etched on stone tablets. I'm so grateful for Your grace... I'm so undeserving of it too.

Especially a special delivery."



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*This is a work of fiction lest anyone be confused, or the Postal Inspector go looking for Darnell.

I'm First in Line

Could there be a better way to start your day>?

Get up and get going...with the new Spazztroids hyper caffeinated cereal!

180 milligrams of caffeine per bowl!



Hey! I'd go for it...from Captain Crunch to Captain Buzz.


It's from the folks at ThinkGeek.

They do this every year.

On this day.

April 1st.

Caught on yet?

Whew...lil' slow on the uptake...you might could really use some Spazztroids...I'm just sayin'...


At least you didn't buy their beta-max to HD-DVD converter.









No joke...NCAA Men's Final Four Hotel rooms are still available!

Inside Stuff

I can't add anything to this...it's not allowed anymore.

But there was a time when "Radio News" was something you couldn't turn off.

(((Warning this is no longer politically correct))




P.S. Final Four Hotel Rooms Here!


Yeah, I have no shame....20/20 blogging :)

Final Four Madness

The final four tourney is about to descend on San Antonio which means I'm getting flooded with NCAA® 2008 Men's Tournament information. The big worry in San Antonio is whether the giant new convention center Hyatt hotel will be actually finished in time. They say it's ready, but you get the impression that if a few guests reach for the shower faucet and it comes off in their hands, no one will be shocked...except maybe the guest paying a gazillion dollars for the room.

(((Warning blatant plug coming)))


Of course, folks looking for last minute hotels for the Final Four® should realize that if they book a room in Universal City, Selma, Schertz, New Braunfels or any other nearby town, they'll still be 15 to 30 miles or less from the Alamodome and their hotel rates will be far less. Heck, you could even stay south of town in Lytle and then head for the coast after the games. Spring Break is in full swing, if that's your cup o' tea (although tea is not usually what's being served). Yes, there are plenty of available rooms for the Final Four. Just wanted to make sure anyone looking for a "last minute final four hotel" didn't think they'd missed out.

(((Blatant commercial plug now ending)))

Anyway, one interesting fact: They put down the "floor" for the games at the Alamodome yesterday. Did you know they only use wood from trees grown north of the 38th parallel for the court? It's true. Maybe I'll tell you why later, when I have time to post more insightful blatant plugs information.

In the interim:



This time lapsed video of the floor installation in Atlanta is sort of cool.

Talking The Talk

So, I was looking up some translations this morning and ran across this guy.

He speaks too.

Of course if you don't speak Spanish you don't know what he's saying...




This is the English reverse translation of what I originally typed...but I had to modify it after realizing that it lost a lot in the translation.


Speaking of not perfect. A preacher near Fort Worth is offering you a chance to win a new vehicle if you'll listen to his three minute testimony, and hopefully be convinced in those three minutes to give your life to Christ.





Personally, I've always said whatever gets you right with God works for me, but I sort of wonder if the promise of eternal life in God's kingdom isn't "bait" enough. Winning a car seems a little earthly doesn't it?

Then again, this Pastor's ministry has dabbled in the unusual before. I think he's the same guy who offered people at a rodeo who listened to his testimony free rides on a mechanical bull.

The drawing for the car is being overseen by the law firm of:

Whitaker, Chalk, Swindle and Sawyer.

Sometimes, you just have to write it and leave it up to interpretation.

Easter

He is Risen!


Easter 2008.

The house is quiet and my goal is for us to make it to the 9 a.m. church service. My reality tells me that's unlikely.

We haven't been the best at rallying for church lately and so I figure if we make the 11 a.m. service I won't complain.

We have three people, and I think one dog, now living in our 'upper room ministry.' One of those folks, all unrelated except by circumstance and work projects (and in the case of the dog, by species), "might" join us today at church. I would think it's a long shot to believe any of the other "humans" will make it - the dog, Gypsy or Gabby depending on who is calling her name, I'm sure would be eager to come along, and possibly be the best behaved among the bunch...but getting this group organized and ready to do almost anything is a lot like herding cats.



How we went from an empty nest to a full house is a story I've yet to figure out completely. I'm really not certain I need to know the "how" anyway...as long as I'm still comfortable with the "why" and the "Who."

Sometimes you open your doors to a brilliant day, sunshine and Easter eggs.

Sometimes we open our doors to other surprises. In each case, I find it best to leave the details to God.

This is the way He works.

At least in my life.

As soon as I opened the door to Him, He was the first one to enter.

He's made Himself at home, despite our failings, our moments of frail faith...our time challenges, and our apparent tendency toward trust bordering on lunacy.

He is a merciful and patient God.

He is alive!

We're driving forward.

He is Risen!


I better start the coffee aroma wafting around the house if I expect anyone else to rise this morning though.

God bless you. Praise God for His mercies and His message.

You can be reborn, remade, resurrected!

Open the door.

Offend? Moi?

"Do I offend?" - Pepe Le Pew


Please don't take offense.

These images are from a "college humor" website.

Seriously, if you can't be silly when you're a kid...when can you be?



Okay, I suppose my posting this makes the point that you can be silly in your 50's too.


Anyway I am old enough to have edited out some of the images which were guaranteed to offend. I may be young at heart, but I'm in a slightly wiser "wineskin."



Of course, there are folks who will become fixated...they won't budge in their opinions, nor lighten up. They're just sort of stuck in their beliefs about this sort of thing.



But I don't believe there's much sense in washing our hands of everyone who offends us.




Maybe it's because I remember doing a lot of silly, stupid and probably offensive things. As I aged, I saw things differently.



I think once in a while - not always - remembering the dark days of your past is an excellent way to shed light on the path you should take in the future.

P.S.

If I did offend you, my apologies. Please click here, I'm sure this website will not disturb you theologically, morally or mentally.

I Bet You'll 'Rish You Didn't See This

I've been so busy lately, odds are I won't be posting anything before St. Patrick's Day, so I figured this was as good of a time as any...besides I found a website that let me make this goofy little display.

Actually, while working on some personal business websites and learning that I'm a lousy basic web designer, especially when I'm rushed, I've also been trying to learn more about using Shockwave flash with marginal success.

So I took some liberties with the code in the video below...removing a good chunk of it which is not really kosher..although I don't think the Irish are too concerned about being kosher in the culinary sense of the word.

In any case, I'm rationalizing my butchering in a number of ways, including that they have nothing on their website saying you shouldn't tinker with their product. Plus I've produced a radio feature about this little widget maker and their website for use on St. Patrick's day....and trust me, that will get more attention than my blog.

Okay, I still feel guilty. So before I go any further, this is the link to their site, where you can make your own goofy blatant plug for Irish Spring.

I will warn you that the most difficult part is not choosing what you're going to look like...



Although that is pretty scary...I found the hardest aspect was trying to work out a speech pattern, which you'll see or hear if I ever stop typing.

I think I'll do that now...

It's not like anything I write is going to make it any better.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!
====


(((Post Script)) - Sorry, but the little video keeps making noise and there's apparently no way to turn it off....

Well there is one way.

Which is why the little video is gone.

Happy Palm Sunday!

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P.S.S. - I think THOUGHT they caught on and turned off the non-stop gurgling which runs even if this video promotion isn't running. So I took a risk worthy of St. Patrick - not really sure what that constitutes in this day an age, drivin' out snakes, or drinking green beer from a dirty glass. In any case, here's another silly time waster, my apologies in advance..

PSSSS

Okay, sorry. Hope you saw it. Not sure anyone sees anything here anymore. But I couldn't get it to stop making a bubbling sounds....CONSTANTLY. So, it's gone.

If you want to punish yourself...you can still see it here. As you'll note I put a lot of effort into putting up the website.

Guess it's my Irish temper.

"May the Irish hills caress you. May her lakes and rivers bless you. May the luck of the Irish enfold you. May the blessings of Saint Patrick behold you."