This is going to be Maddy's Halloween costume...or a sheet with eye holes, depending on how well it goes.
Here's hoping we wind up with s costume that says ,"Hey,I'm creative!" rather than one that says," Yep, I'm broke.".
I remember that feeling as a kid, it sucked.
So much parental creative pressure..
This is not politics this is simply an observation.
When I consider the times in life I've had more rather than less, I will say that life, simply living, is far less expensive when you have money than when you don't.
When you have money you don't need to spend nearly as much of it, because you can afford to avoid problems, rather than hoping for the best and dealing with them as they come...and they do come.
A poor person will spend $3in resources to get $2 in cash if it means keeping the power on for one more day, a decision that would not make sense to someone who had money.
It becomes a spiral downward that perpetuates itself.
The spending habits of either makes no sense to the other. The rich don't need to spend money that way and the poor simply can't spend money that way.
The biggest problem with money between either is the same though, that they are both preoccupied with it.
One for lack there of, the for it's excess.
Watching a cooking show and the lady said she always has a bag of chocolate chips in her arse....nal
The TV volume always seems to be at that perfect level, not too soft, not too loud.
You know what I'm talking about, that level that forces you to choose between chewing your food or hearing the dialogue.
The other day I was watching a show when I thought I heard the guy on TV say," I left home with a back pack, a couple hundred books, and a huge tree."
Turns out what he actually said was a couple hundred bucks and a huge dream.
That made a lot more sense...
Here,I will make a prediction about your future.
Scratch that, I will state with great certainty an event that will come to pass in your future.
You let me know when it actually does come to pass (as I'm sure it will).
If we haven't seen each other in years it will be the perfect excuse to call.
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One day, as you reflect upon your past, you will recall this very moment and as you do, it will cause you to smile.
When that day comes, you may perhaps even laugh...out loud and tell this story.
Because when that happens you will think to yourself:
Well, what do you know?
Dave was right.
Quick wit often indicates slow logic.
People are far more likely to have a snappy retort based on what they think they have heard, than they are to try and understand what is actually being said from the heart of a message, consider it fully and then respond accordingly.
Especially if the heart of that message is too close for comfort to their own.
The ability to combine both, and apply them effectively requires careful skill in selection and a certain depth of humility.
It is difficult, but it can be done.
Dispensed in the right proportion it can be a fantastic means of communication because it can be disarming enough to actually force those, who might be inclined to do otherwise, to actually listen and think more deeply.
Step carefully through these mine fields though, for you will walk a fine line between wisdom and foolishness in the process.
Even the hardest stones can be broken, but it is most often a slow, labor intensive process and not for those without the patience to see it through.
Sometimes I obey the letter of the law, because it affords me what the spirit of it never would.
Sometimes I obey the spirit of the law because it affords me what the letter never could.
Although not nearly as cost effective obeying the spirit of the law is always better for everyone in the end.
Do what is right, not what is expected.
Until a certain conversation which I had today, I never really knew what this poem meant.
Throughout the course of the conversation when my points could not be refuted the subject would be changed by the other party and all logic lost.
Then a light went off, I at first thought of the expression," Never argue with a fool. They will drag you down to their level and then beat you with experience."and then this poem came to mind.
Now I know exactly what it means or at least what I think it does.
Enjoy.
The Rowing Song By Roald Dahl
Round the world and home again That's the sailor's way
Faster faster, faster faster
There's no earthly way of knowing Which direction we are going
There's no knowing where we're rowing
Or which way the river's flowing
Is it raining, is it snowing
Is a hurricane a–blowing
Not a speck of light is showing
So the danger must be growing
Are the fires of Hell a–glowing
Is the grisly reaper mowing
Yes, the danger must be growing
For the rowers keep on rowing
And they're certainly not showing Any signs that they are slowing.
How much seed a farmer has is irrelevant. If he simply stores it it will only rot and if it is never planted it will never grow.
So it is with love.
It's not how much you have, it's what you do with it that matters.
Who can know which day will be their last or sometime else's?
Why are we so insistent on making it so hard for each other?
Grace, mercy, compassion, why do we hold back?
Where's the love, people?!
In my life I been made very aware of many things, about the world, about the people in it and about my place in it.
I know that I am not much.
I don't really excel in most of my endeavors, (or at anything really) and certainly the things I do best are not the sorts of things that will do much to increase my creature comforts or social standing.
I have learned to be ok with that, knowing that God has a plan for me. Some way, some how I will be used.
The reality is simply that I am one of billions, barely a factor at all yet I exist. On my best days I feel almost, but not quite, adequate and this should lend some insight to my bad days.
I was raised in an abusive home, and when my parents fought I was most often simply glad that this time it wasn't me getting the beating. I learned a relationship with music through it as I often turn up my head phones until it all passed.
I was also raised in a home that was without religion our religious influence, barring perhaps the practice of black arts by my mother.
My stepfather hated religion and made no bones about it. (Two divorces growing up, the second of which came as news on one fateful Christmas day.)
I was often told and shown my inadequacies, by my parents, peers and authority figures throughout my growing up years and even still today.
I'm certain that this was in large part due to my struggle with a condition of which very little was known at the time, ADHD. The "H" really standing more for a lack of impulse control more than anything else. This couldn't have made me an easy kid to raise, and I imagine it was the catalyst for many of my parents frustrations and abuses toward me.
It certainly didn't make things easy for me either.
I had very little filter between my inner dialogue and what came out of my mouth most of the time and so I was more (and probably inappropriately) honest than I think most people would have expected from a kid or knew how to handle.
I still struggle with these things but as I grow older God had shown my weaknesses to be his strengths.
The situation(s) during my growing up years was further compounded by living in the town of Mesa, AZ, a block from the Morman Temple. Mesa, if you don't know, is a town who's Morman population was only barely exceeded by that of the Catholic population. I was neither.
I should add also, for your understanding of who I am that we were...well let's just say I was referred to as the poorest kid in Mesa. No air conditioning, no heat, no car, no phone, no lots of things.Yet another factor in making me less than desirable to many.
I was a kid who never fit in... anywhere, try as I might.
I didn't care about sports or cars, I didn't care to rough house, I just wasn't like most boys my age, and finding friends was difficult. (still is)
As I was so misunderstood I was also then excluded from many "normal" things, by my peers. It was a huge struggle to find my place, and figure out just who I was because I was unlike most anyone I knew. As it was then so it is today and in many ways I am still that kid.
All of this to say, if I understand anything at all about grace, it is because I have experienced such a great lack of it at certain times, and a great amount of it at others.
The source of either has always been at the most unexpected times and from the most unlikely of people. So I do not discount the potential of anyone to display either at any given point. We all have good and bad days, some days grace comes with ease, some days it is a struggle, some days it does not exist within us at all to extend, and so it is with me. Forgive me if this is ever the case.
In looking back I see that grace in my life was extended more often than I may have realized at the time. Often the largest grace comes from those who give it secretly.
These, as with many of my experiences were difficult to comprehend at the time but I see now, that having gone through them, they make up in large part who I am today and are probably the reason why I am so sensitive to certain things and callused to others.
That I am alive today and only as messed up as I am is, again, by the grace of God and the faithfulness off his people.
We often only know and appreciate the great wealth we possess when we have known a great lack of it, physically and spiritually speaking.
However, the grace I received was not only from Christians. In fact most of the examples I have of the extreme lack of grace that I have known over my lifetime has in large part been from those professing faith in Jesus and concern for his cause as their motive. Maybe I just remember those experiences more because that is where I thought I should probably have received grace most, so making all the more impact on me when contrary was the case.
I extend the benefit of the doubt when I say that although perhaps well intentioned, the actions of many Christians are very misdirected, and often serve more destructive rather than constructive ends. It does not serve their witness well.
From wherever it was received though, it was a blessing from God. Blessing that are, I believe, the only reason I an as well off as I am today.
I will end here, and continue later.
Think about it.
I'll be back.
d(-_-)b
Tuesday evening I received a gift of great magnitude from a friend of mine. It was profound and touched me deeper than words can express, but I will try here to tell you of it.
My biggest regret is that he isn't alive so that I can thank him for it.
My family and I just spent the evening with Derek's mom, sister and Mel.
They are doing better than I would have expected as they are in town to pack up his stuff.
We met at Cracker Barrel for coffee and desert, and although I suppose I should have expected it had I given it much thought, I really wasn't quite ready to go down memory lane about him. I guess I really don't know what I thought we would do or talk about, but discussing the one thing we had in common, the one thing that had brought us together, wasn't something I was really prepared for.
Our relationship with Derek was (from what I can tell) very different in nature from that which many seemed to have had with him. We didn't drink to excess, party, or do drugs. We didn't get tattoos, get caught in strange situations or foreign places.
He was most often just a guest at our house, for evenings or nights. We would eat dinner together, talk, have beer or two, maybe sit by the fire. But mostly we just talked.
He loved my family and we loved him. Our relationship was the result of, what I would call at times, one of many in my character defects. The immediate feeling that someone will or will not be my friend. I knew when I first met him we would be long time friends in some way or another.
I could not have known how long, or what level. Or even what impact he would have on me, and just how much a part of our lives he would become over time. He was a loyal friend and great support in difficult times.
Derek was flighty by virtue of his addictions and his own character defects I suppose. We all have them. So we would only ever see him sporadically and on his terms mostly. Probably out of love and respect, but he did not come around when he was under the influence as far as I could ever tell.
He meant a lot to me, us. He felt life more deeply than most, and as with many people who feel so deeply he struggled simply to live life and be happy often times. Eventually this struggle took his life.
Although he lived recklessly and not without regret, he was exactly who he was without apology and it was all out there for anyone who cared to see it.
That in my opinion and experience is a rare thing to actually encounter, a thing to be appreciated and embraced when found in another. It was surely found in him.
I would like to have been a better friend to him somehow, but it was never an option that I, or a lot of people apparently, were ever really afforded. That's Derek I guess.
As we talked about Derek, his mom, sister and Mel began telling us about the times that Derek had spent with our family.
You should know, that prior to this night I had not known or spoken to any of the three people I was now with and so it struck me as odd that they knew so much of us and our relationship with Derek.
As with so many of my friends, I never considered myself to be much of a friend, not to the depth I would like to be at least.
I told a few people of this regret, who knew Derek, and they noted otherwise to me, but this night it was not words that moved me to understand that in fact I/we meant something much more to him, than we ever knew during his life.
So, on the drive, (the long drive) home it set me to thinking, and of course one thing lead to another and I thought this...
I love a lot of people. People who really do mean the world to me. And while I love them it is a strange concept to consider when I occasionally get a deeper glimpse into the reality that I might actually mean something to them as well.
I feel very unworthy of such affections. I know it seems strange and it's probably just insecurity, but whatever the case may be, it is all the same very overwhelming when it actually hits home like it did on this night.
I don't know that this will even make sense to anyone else, but it is exactly where I'm at right now.
As with Derek, I wish I could be the sort of friend that's, I don't know, just better.
I seem to know a lot of people who feel life deeply and simply living it takes a large toll on them, because they often care for others far more than they care for themselves. Like I said, for Derek it took his life.
I am often concerned about them but what can I do? Pray?
It seems like there should be more somehow, but I can't figure out just what that would be. It leaves me at a loss.
All of this said, as we go through life, I would ask you to keep in mind that we're all just trying to figure out this mess called life as we stumble through it. Really none of us can know deep down what sort of turmoil is the heart of another, regardless of what outward appearances might seem.
Some of us have received a greater measure of grace throughout our journey I suppose, which makes it easier for some than others, but we all have our struggles, just as we all have an impact on each other in ways we may never understand.
So please, I ask of you, be kind to each other, so as not to make things any worse or more difficult than life already may be for them.
It is sad to me that Derek was able to give me such a gift and that he's not even around for me to thank him for it.
It was in fact his death that had brought these people I had never met in my 15 (?) plus years of knowing Derek on this one night.
That too made me think....
I probably have the most diverse group of friends of anyone I know. Many of whom don't get along with or even like each other. They don't always see in themselves or each other what I see in all of them.
But one day too, as we all will, I'll die. My hope is that it will be an occasion that would bring people together, like this night, who would not otherwise have occasion to meet.
And when that day comes, as it will, I hope to you say to yourselves, "Man, Dave really had some awesome people in his life." because I do.
Be good to yourselves, but more importantly, be good to each other.
Peace be with you,
d(-_-)b
Dear Maddy,
I have just arrived at work only to realize that I have arrived without my socks or shoes.
If there was any doubt before, now we know for sure where you get it.
So sorry. It lasts a lifetime.
Love, Dad
Something good will happen to you today, even if you don't recognize it.
Today the truck started without hesitation. I didn't even think about it until I was almost at work.
I guess that's how life is.
We don't appreciate things when they go just as we expect they should.
We don't know what's really good until it's not.
So what good thing has happened to you today?
The discourse and wisdom of ages is often summed up quite neatly in the catch phrases of the grade school playground.
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It takes one to know one.
Self explanatory.
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I am rubber you are glue. Words bounce of me and stick to you.
What you say of me you are really saying of yourself.
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I know you are but what am I?
What you don't realize is that what you are saying of me, I see that you are really saying of yourself, and you don't know me well enough to make these accusations of me.
There's a ton of them if you think about it.
