What Happened to Your Blog?

If you watched a movie about a guy who wanted a Volvo and worked for years to get it, you wouldn't cry at the end when he drove off the lot, testing the windshield wipers. .... The ambitions we have will become the stories we live. If you want to know what a person's story is about, just ask them what they want. If we don't want anything, we are living boring stories, and if we want a Roomba vacuum cleaner, we are living stupid stories. ... If what we choose to do with our lives won't make a story meaningful, it won't make a life meaningful either.


-Donald Miller (from A Million Miles in a Thousand Years) as partially transcribed in my first blog, April 2010.




Thanks for following along with this chapter of my story.
For the past six years, you've kept me sane, or at least something resembling it. You've given me a forum to air whatever silliness has crept into my head and wouldn't leave. You've been a sounding board to pass along whatever it was I thought I had learned along life's journey. You've indulged my creative misfires, my obsessive need to explore the meaning of song lyrics and sitcoms, and even my random thoughts.


Speaking of which, why is it that things are "revitalized," but nothing is ever "vitalized"?


Along the way, you've given me enough encouragement to believe I was making a difference for some of you, adding beauty to your life or at least easing some of its sorrow. There's no greater feeling I've known than to create something that somehow connected with someone else--it's a momentary affirmance that we are all connected in some way and my life isn't in vain.




That kind of feeling was exactly what I was searching for when I started this six years ago.


When I started this adventure I wasn't sure what it was going to look like--I was just a guy tired of working the 9-5, going to the gym and the occasional cookout and not doing anything uniquely meaningful with his life. I wanted my life to tell a better story than that of an Assistant Attorney General who might some day get promoted to a Senior Assistant Attorney General and buy a better sedan and an automatic vacuum. That's when I started sharing life with you.




There's a bigger story I need to tell, though, and I've been working on putting it into book form for the last year. I'm stalled 21,000 words into it, with both the book and the blog taking up just enough mental space that neither can quite get out of my head and onto the page.
I was hoping to keep up at least a minimal blogging presence to keep you engaged until I had something bigger to offer, but trying to do two things at once has meant doing neither very well.
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Kermit the Frog introduced himself to the audience in the "Muppet Movie" in a song. 


In the movie's opening moments, he tells the audience that although it wasn't very logical, he believed he had heard a call toward something more than singing alone in a pond. He was meant to sing, alright, but someone else was supposed to hear it; someone who could somehow relate to the lonely yearning in his soul.


Following his inner calling would involve Kermit leaving his comfort zone and taking some crazy chances to have his own voice heard, but he knew he'd never be quite satisfied if he didn't give it a chance. He wasn't exactly where his journey would take him, but he left his pond in search of his dream, believing there was a rainbow somewhere on the other side. Even if he was wrong, he had to give it a try. As he concluded:


I've heard it too many times to ignore it;
It's something that I'm supposed to be.
Someday we'll find it--the rainbow connection
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.




I'm no singing frog, but I have a story too. It's a story that will make some people laugh as they nod along in agreement, make some rigid people angry as they read in disgust, but hopefully it will provide peace for others.
It's an idea that I wish would have been published somewhere 20 years ago when I needed to hear it, so I'm guessing there's someone else who needs to hear it now.
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When I was growing up as an unpopular but deeply religious kid, my church taught me that God would eventually make my dreams come true according to a strict formula if I just obeyed all the rules they gave me. When that didn't happen, when the proverbial bumps in the road indisputably became dead ends, I was left to believe that God had uniquely withheld those promises from me, because I somehow wasn't worthy of God's love.


It sounds tragic, and in some ways, I guess it was, but some of the hoops I was forced to jump through as a kid are entertainingly ridiculous (I still have the ribbon I won at 6-years-old for being one of the first five kids in my first-grade Sunday School class to recite the 66 books of the Bible in order. Although I cried each time I lost out to the prior four) as are some of the ways I treated God like a Cosmic Vending Machine.


But I eventually found peace with a God who doesn't follow the formulas humans created, and who, I think, both laughs and cries with me looking back at points of my journey. I also learned some pretty cool things along the way.


I can't wait to tell you the story.


It's a story that I think I'm supposed to tell, and I've heard the call too many times to ignore it.
Six years of blogging have led me to this point, and it's something that I'm supposed to be.
So I'm off to find my rainbow, which needs another 39,000 words to completion.





Until then, you won't see me around this space. I'll be back, in some form or another, when I reach the other side.
And I'll have a better story for my trouble.

It's Too Early For Christmas Decorations

"The holidays always seem long" the cashier said, "because we put out our holiday decorations so early."




"Was this the store where I saw Christmas decorations before Halloween?", I asked.




"Yep, that was us."




It all made sense, considering I had seen New Year's Eve decorations at that same drugstore earlier today.




The cashier was perfectly nice, but her store's policy is ridiculous. No store needs to have Christmas decorations up before Thanksgiving, let alone Halloween.




Here's what I mean:




I love Christmas. I love cheesy Christmas merchandise and decorations. During mid December, I'll walk into Walgreen's if I have a spare moment just for the sake of looking at the Charlie Brown trees in a box or reindeer lawn decorations and absorbing the holiday glow.




I just don't need to do it on November 3rd.




That's too early. Thanksgiving and Halloween deserve seasons of their own. Celebrating Christmas in early November makes it stale by mid-December. Getting overly excited about anything too far advance takes away the enjoyment of now.



It seems like that's what we're always doing. "Thanksgiving might be around the corner," the commercials say, "but just wait until Christmas! That's when things will get really fun!"


The message will change come later in December, when the new year is when all our dreams will come true.


But come about December 28th, store aisles will stop looking a lot like Christmas and start looking a lot like Valentine's Day, because every kiss begins with Kay. Besides, isn't that what you really want?




It isn't just holidays, either. How long until your next vacation?


Everybody's working for the weekend.




Or, perhaps, the most wonderful time of the year.




I understand the counterpoint. Just because I don't want Christmas season to start in early November, doesn't mean somebody else wouldn't like to see Christmas stockings and holiday colored M&M's when it's still warm outside. So, really, who's the victim?


Who?




Me. And those of you who want to enjoy the holiday season we're actually in.




I love Christmas, but I love Thanksgiving too. And Halloween. The seasons and calendar set up nicely so that they all get about a month. Starting Christmas too soon takes away from the celebration of the others. You can't be fully into the moment of the holiday at hand when the store is already trying to point you towards something else any more than you fully listen to someone talking to you while sending a text.




It's information overload.




It's symptomatic of bigger problems in our society. A day after we pause to give thanks for what we have, we flock in droves to buy more on Black Friday. It's as though someone has convinced us that if we just buy onnnnneeee more thing, we'll finally be satisfied, and we just can't wait to get started buying that elusive happiness.




We shouldn't fall into that trap and overlook Thanksgiving. It's a day where we can eat fantastic food with people we like and remember that for most of us, things could have turned out a lot worse. It doesn't require a lot of fuss or hassle trying to throw the best party or money and stress over finding that perfect gift.




For most people, it's the only four-day weekend on the calendar. It's a time to relax and recover from whatever the year has brought, to celebrate making it through its worst and to give thanks for its enjoying its best. It's just enough time to remember who we are outside of work and what we have that brings us joy.




And it's not just a meal, but a long weekend of doing as much or as little as we want, with no trappings or commercialization.




Maybe that's why stores are so anxious to rush through it.




But it's exactly why we shouldn't let them.

Blogging the Republican Debate

Moderators: Ok, welcome audience and tv-land.


Please welcome the candidates. Let's get started.


Should we raise the minimum wage?


Trump: No, because we're not winning. We don't win. Our taxes are too high and we're getting beat by the Chinese and by other militaries. We need to start winning.


Rubio: No. By the way, my dad was a bartender. And now I'm running for President! Also we need more welders.


Carson: Thank you for not asking me about those stories I made up to sell my book. It doesn't really matter what I say regardless because I look so professorial up here. I could read the phone book and sound brilliant. Admit it, you love hearing my voice.


Moderators: Why should you be elected?


Trump: We're not winning. We need to start winning. If you elect me, we'll start winning. Because winning.


Bush: We need economic growth. "The growth that we don't have makes the deficit grow." "We need to repeal every rule that Barack Obama has in terms of work in progress." We need to be serious about being serious about being serious.


Trump: We need to get serious about building a wall and deporting illegal immigrants.


Kasich: We can't do that. Think of the children! I have two 16-year old children!


Trump: You're a loser.


Kasich: (stands in a corner)


Moderators: What do you think, Ms. Fiorina?


Fiorina: Crony capitalism. Regulatory thicket. Three-page tax code. We need to take our government back!


Carson: Doesn't my voice sound like Morgan Freeman?


Moderators: Senator Cruz, how would you pay for your massive tax cut?


Senator Cruz: I would cut five departments. The IRS, the Department of Commerce, the Department of Energy...um..., the Department of Commerce and the Department of Energy.


Rubio: The most important job any person in this room will ever have is the job of being a parent. More important than being president. So if you don't have kids you aren't important. So, we need to be pro families. Because the most important job you can is to be the President.  Oh wait, I think I got my lines confused, so I'll just keep saying the word "family."


Moderators: What about the Pacific Trade deal? (inspirational music begins playing for no apparent reason)


Trump: It's a bad deal. We're losing to China, and we'll keeping losing even more to China if we pass this deal. We need to stop being losers!


Paul: Shouldn't we point out that China isn't actually part of this deal?


Moderators: Let's just move on. Mr. Carson, should we have troops in the Middle East?


Carson: Well, the Chinese and the Russians are there now. And jihadists. We need to make them look like losers!


Moderators: Was that your Donald Trump impression?  Oh well.  What about you Ms. Fiorina?


Fiorina: Three-page tax code. Take our government back!


Trump: We need to stop losing.


Moderators: What do you think Governor Bush?


Bush: I think Obama hates America.


Moderators: How would you deal with Putin?


Trump: Well, China is a big problem. And so is Iran. And Iraq. And Putin and I are friends. So someone else should deal with him. Because we're too busy losing.


Fiorina: Wait, I've met Putin too! But I wouldn't talk to him if I were President, because that would hurt his feelings and then he'd do what we want. Also, three-page tax code.


Rubio: I haven't met Putin, but it's kind of weird that you people are name-dropping like this. Do you think Putin is bragging to the Russians that he's met you?


Kasich: Wait, I'm still here? Why? Ok, I'll now make up for the last hour by giving a hurried, rambling speech covering my entire platform in 90 seconds.


Moderators: Ok, Governor Bush: would you bail the banks out again?


Bush: No. Hillary wants them to be too big to fail. We should raise their capital requirements so they aren't too big to fail. "I was just in Washington, Iowa talking about how bad Washington, DC is. It was kind of a, you get the, um (awkward hand motions), well kinda--anyway..." (awkward shrug). The financial crisis was bad and now banks are overregulated.


Carson: The banks need to be regulated so that they don't have so much power. ... What we need is to stop having so much government regulation because it hurts the poor.


All candidates: We're going to talk about how horrible something or someone called Dodd Frank is, but none of us are going to remotely explain what he or it is.  But he's probably a loser.


Moderators: Ok, candidates: why are you a better candidate than Hillary Clinton, because she is a really good candidate. I mean, really good. She was First Lady, Senator, Secretary of State, and pretty much better than all of you. So why shouldn't I just drop you all in the Secret Pit of Doom hidden underneath this stage so she can have her coronation?


Fiorina: That sounds like crony capitalism.


Rubio: She's old.


Moderators: Anyone else have any final words?


Kasich: I have two 16-year old children.


Fiorina: We need to get rid of crony capitalism with my three-page tax plan. We need to take our government back.


Bush: I'm a uniter not a divider. Oh wait, has someone else said that before?


Cruz: We will win! Go to my website!


Rubio: My dad was a bartender!  Here's my website!


Carson: While we've been debating, the world around us is crumbling. Because of political correctness. Also, wouldn't you like to hear my voice for the next 4 years?


Trump: I'm really rich. And I'm winning.

An Alternative to Birthdays: Conception Day

17 years ago, almost immediately after I turned 21, I wrote my weekly column in the University of Alabama's school paper wondering what all the fuss was about.


Well, it wasn't immediately after I turned 21, because that would have meant being at the Crimson White office at midnight. Which I usually was, actually.  But not generally when it was my birthday, and also a Saturday. So I actually wrote the column the first of next week.


But this is not my central point.


The point is, and was, that my birthday was anticlimactic because I should have turned 21 nine months sooner. Instead of my birthday in November, we should have celebrated my Conception Day nine months prior, because that's, at least scientifically, when life begins. As another birthday creeps ever closer, I'm again thinking of the benefits of this approach.


See for yourself:


----------------------------------------------------------------


After minutes of extensive scientific research, I have determined life begins at conception. Or not, depending on whom you ask.


I'm using this space to advocate for either point of view, but it's without serious question that the idea of celebrating your Conception Day is a winner all around. 


Currently, the majority of humans celebrate birthdays, or at least have parties where they pretend to have a good time. But at the potential expense of your upcoming party, this may not be the most accurate way of keeping track of how old we are.


If our lives really do begin when our parents sperm cells and egg cells get together (sorry for putting that mental image in your head), then I propose we begin celebrating our conception days instead of, or at least in addition to, our birthdays.


The advantages of the Conception Day idea are numerous. We'd get presents earlier, and possibly twice a year if we celebrated both occasions. College students would turn 21 nine months earlier, ensuring that they could, um, legally rent cars sooner to avoid missing class in case of needed automotive maintenance. That's not all.


We could retire 9 months sooner, collect social security nine months earlier, and we'd more quickly be eligible for Senior Day discounts at the grocery store. We'd be statistically more likely to still be here for our 100th Conception Day celebration, than for our actual birthday.


And going back to that Senior Day thing, those savings would totally add up over nine months.


The celebration would be better too. Current birthdays are just pretty good. Currently, you get candles, cake, and even presents from your 80-year old grandparents. They suck (the presents, that is), but it's the thought that counts of the effort people go to celebrate your entry into the world. So if we do all that just to honor the day you merely arrived, imagine would much more fun could go into a celebration of your springing into life as an embryo.


For example, instead of awkward old baby pictures popping up on the day of your celebration, you could post old ultrasounds, where everyone would coo about how much you looked like a peanut.  Some people get a kiss on their birthdays. Imagine what you'd be in for if you were celebrating Conception Day!


Actually, the biggest problem with the Conception Day idea is probably along these lines. Soon people would start trying to be cute and buying each other Hallmark conception-related items to celebrate, and there would be office Conception Day parties for everyone's big day, and this would get super awkward fast. So we'd have to all start with the understanding that a cake is the only office-appropriate form of celebrating is a simple cake. We don't give diapers to people for their birthdays, so no one should get Viagra on Conception Day.


Can we all just agree to this?


With this rule of Conception Day etiquette out of the way, we can go back to the benefits of Conception Day. Although to realize these benefits, one would have to of course figure out the exact date of one's conception.


This would be the tricky part. And in-depth interview with your parents would be required.


Of course, you could just be lazy and subtract 9 months from your birthday, but this could easily be wrong. You might have been early. Or late. Or born in a leap year. And since the whole point of Conception Day is to accurately count the true time of your existence as a life form, it would be essential to get this right.


So you will need to have your parents recount all the details of their, um, experiences roughly nine months prior to your birth. You will need to know dates, places, and times, just to make sure that a date that started on Friday night didn't end up resulting in you on Saturday morning.


While this may sound uncomfortable, you can take comfort in the idea that if your parents were as old as mine when I was conceived, there may not be too many viable choices on the date. As an added bonus, like me, you might perform this exercise and realize to your considerable surprise that you were born almost exactly nine months after your parents anniversary.


But if your parents were a little younger and more energetic, it may be a little harder to figure out the exact date. So you will have to have them map out in graphic form (by which I mean Microsoft Excel, not the other kind of graphic form) all the possible occasions that could have spawned your existence. Make a bar graph of the conceivable dates (see what I did there?) and their frequency, then average out the distance of these dates from the median by dividing this date by the total number of attempts at forming you into being. That is your Conception Day.   


After you determine this momentous day, the first people who owe you gifts are your parents, if only because you will now never be able to look at them in the same light again. Undoubtedly, the first gift you will ask for is for a way to erase the memory of your Conception Day interview.


But this is a small price to pay for the privilege of suddenly being nine months older.

What Happens When You Ask Too Many Hard Questions In Church

(A video play I wrote, to be aired on Sunday at my church--a place that, unlike many others, welcomes and thoughtfully engages with questions like Joe's).

                                                                            

Characters:

Joe: Curious, intelligent newish Christian who doesn’t mean any harm but hasn’t yet had church culture instilled in him.

Mary: Type A brownnoser desperately trying to curry favor of religious leaders, but without any depth to her beliefs. Peter's wife.

Peter: Lifelong churchgoer who fancies himself an intellectual and would like to be a church leader one day. Probably a white business man.

Steven:  Christian without strong or original ideas. Just wants to have his beliefs validated and try not to stir the pot.

Emily:  Lifelong churchgoer whose never asked too many questions or caused problems, but has a few creeping doubts.

Mr. Lawson: White male who wears sweater vests and probably bears resemblance to Rick Santorum. Formal but pleasant to the group members who buy into his thought process, but pious and condescending to “troublemakers,” and would prefer to get through the lesson plan rather than debate anything thoroughly. Can be cold to group and may seem disappointed, but never shows much emotion with group as he views it as weakness).

------------

(Group in Progress, everyone has bibles open. A male leader stands.)

Mr. Lawson: Ok, who wants to read Proverbs Chapter 3, verse 7?

Mary: (Overanxious) I’ll do it!

Mr. Lawson: Proceed.

Mary:  “Be not wise in your own eyes: fear the Lord and depart from evil.

Mr. Lawson: Ok, so who are we supposed to fear?

Steven: The Lord!

Mr. Lawson: Good. And as to evil, what should we do?

Emily: Um, depart from it?

Mr. Lawson: Great. And why do you think God wants us to depart from evil?

Mary: Because God is good!

Mr. Lawson: That’s exactly right. Now who can be the first to find and read Mathew 6:19? (a fervent Bible-drill race ensues)

Peter: (Stands) I got it! “Store not for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and rust destroy and thieves steal. But store up treasure in heaven where moths and rust do not destroy and there are no thieves.

Mr. Lawson: So where should we store our treasure?

Mary: Heaven!

Mr. Lawson: And why is that?

Steven: Because things on earth pass away, but our treasures last forever in Heaven.

Peter: I’m living my life to do all the right things and store up as much treasure in Heaven as possible! Like a pirate for the Lord!        

                       

Mr. Lawson: That’s a great way of putting it! I’m so proud of all of you! You’re demonstrating such great depth in your faith today with these correct answers.

Steven: Well, that’s what I love about this group. We can talk about our faith and discuss these hard questions. And everyone accepts us as we are.

(A door opens. Joe walks in late. Everyone stares. )  Joe: Sorry I’m late…

Mr. Lawson: (interrupting) Welcome, Joe. I know you work on the other side of town, but please keep in mind that we start at 6:30. I know you’re new to the group, but please try to keep in mind how we do things here. We have a lot of material to cover.

Joe: Sorry. One of my co-workers left their headlights on and I happened to have jumper cables on me…

Mr. Lawson: Oh, that’s ok. It’s time that we move on to our question and answer session irregardless. Now remember everyone, now is the time that you can ask any Bible question you have on your mind. But to get the conversation started, I’ll ask an easy one we can discuss: why do bad things happen to good people?

Peter: That’s easy. Free will. God doesn’t prevent us from being hurt by other people’s sin. (everyone nods) (VIDEO GRAPHIC ON SCREEN: REPEATING AN ANSWER YOU HEARD IN SUNDAY SCHOOL: 25 HEAVENLY TREASURE POINTS.)

Mr. Lawson: That’s exactly right…

Joe:   But wait, what about things like earthquakes and tornados?  Why did God put us in a world that seems to have all these natural booby traps? (Asking a Follow-Up Question IN CHURCH: 15 DEMERITS.)

(Reaction: stunned silence. Angry stare from Mary and Peter. Dumbfounded look from Steven, who looks to leader to come to the rescue. Confused and slightly annoyed look from Emily)

Mary: (self-satisfied) Well, I think it’s like Jesus said, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” (Steven nods heartily). (SUPPORTING AN ARGUMENT WITH A PLATITUDE: 5 POINTS.)

Joe: But some people do die in natural disasters. And was that Jesus or Kelly Clarkson?

(Reactions slightly more fervent version of last reactions).

Steven: Well, we all know God works in mysterious ways. (everyone but Joe nods) (SUPPORTING AN ARGUMENT WITH A RELIGIOUS PLATITUDE: 15 POINTS).

Mr. Lawson: I think that’s the kind of thing we’ll just have to ask God when we get to Heaven. (DEFLECTING HARD QUESTIONS: 30 POINTS).

Emily: I have a friend who says that she can’t be a believer because science has disproven the idea that the earth was created in six days a few thousand years ago. What should I say to her?

Peter: This relates back to that first passage we read about how we shouldn’t be wise in our own eyes. (REFERENCING A BIBLE VERSE THAT DOESN’T ANSWER THE QUESTION: 50 POINTS)

Mary: Yeah, science is science, but God is God. (Amens all around, except from Joe, and Emily, who seems slightly unsatisfied).

Steven: Well, I have a question for the group. I have a co-worker who’s not a Christian who says that Noah couldn’t have possibly had a boat big enough to fit two of all the animals of the whole world, and that it could have never rained enough to cover Mt. Everest.  How do I convince him that he’s wrong?

Mary: You should tell him to read the Bible.  (ANSWERING QUESTION WITH: “THE BIBLE”: 100 POINTS).  

Joe: But if he doesn’t believe the Bible is true, how will reading it convince him? (POINTING OUT CIRCULAR REASONG IN CHURCH SETTING: 200 DEMERITS).

Mary: But maybe if he reads it himself, a light will come on for him. It’s like the Bible says: "God helps those who help themselves."

Steven: We just have to pray for him! (folds hands and mouths a silent prayer).  

Peter: People don’t understand that the Bible is what our whole faith is based on. If you start questioning asking questions, then your whole faith might just start to unravel.

Joe: But does the Bible even say that? And how do we really know we can trust the Bible anyway?

(Reaction Shock: Mary almost hyperventilates. Peter clenches fists and steams. Steven spit takes. Then panics and looks around for someone to answer. Emily’s annoyance slowly turns to agitated thoughtfulness)

Emily: I don’t know about you Joe, but I’ve always believed the Bible is true because my parents taught me that from the very beginning, and it’s just been part of who I am. And Pastor Thomas taught that too. Who am I to question?

Mary: Well, I believe it’s true.

Peter: Here’s what you’re missing, Joe. We can rest assured that the Bible is the word of God, because it says that it is.

Mr. Lawson: That’s exactly right. It says right in 2nd Timothy 3:16, that all Scripture is God’s word. So if you ever have doubts, you can just read that verse and believe it and know you’ll be counted among the righteous. (REFERRING TO THE BIBLE AS PROOF OF THE BIBLE:  POINTS JACKPOT!!!!!).

Joe: But what about all the books that came after 2nd Timothy? And doesn’t every religion claim that it’s right? If we were all born in India, wouldn’t we all be attending a Hindu Bible study right now?

(Reactions: Mary: Holding chest, breathing deeply. Peter: Anger rising, grinding teeth. Steven: Panic. Looking for someone to answer. Emily: Fascinated.

Peter: No, because there IS no Hindu Bible. And our Bible is the word of God. Jesus said so.

Mr. Lawson: Peter hit the nail on the head. No other religion claims Jesus, and he said we should believe the Bible. (satisfied nods from all but Joe). And if he said it, we can believe it.

Joe: But wasn’t the New Testament written years after he ascended to Heaven? How could he have validated it before it was written? So who decided that all these books written after Jesus left us should be so important?

(Reactions: Mary breathes into paper bag. Peter breaks pencil while staring angrily at Joe. Steven stares at Mr. Lawson, motions for him to give an answer because he can’t think of anything. Emily Perplexed.)

Emily: (suddenly) And how do we know that the people quoting Jesus all that time later remembered everything right?

Mr. Lawson: Now Joe, we just have to have faith that God guided the process. And when you’re stronger in your faith in Jesus, he’ll removed all these doubts. And Emily, don’t let Satan put doubts in your heart. (Mary, Peter and Steven satisfied with this answer, Emily still pondering.)

Joe: But how do we know Jesus really was God and not just a great prophet?

(Reactions: Mary passes out. Peter stands up and screams. Steven falls on knees and starts praying. Emily is perplexed, broken, buries head in hands.)

Mr. Lawson: (Authoritatively) All right, everyone calm down. Return to order. We know we can trust in Jesus because the Bible says so. Joe, some of these questions are better left unasked right now. These are the type of discussions that I like to have with people only after new Christians become stronger in their faith.

Joe: But how do I become stronger in my faith without thinking through these kinds of questions?

(Pause.)

Mr. Lawson: That’s something I encourage you to pray about and maybe we can discuss next week, because our time is up for now. Remember to have your five Bibles verses ready to recite to complete this semester’s discipleship training. Also, please everyone remember that group starts at 6:30, so please be respectful of that if you are going to come. I’ll see everyone next week.

(Everyone disperses)

Emily: (Catches Joe, looking discouraged, as he leaves.) You know, I’ve always wondered some of those things too. Everyone else around here seems so sure they have it all figured out that, it’s hard to even know who it’s even safe to ask.

Joe: (Gives a knowingly glance as they walk off together.)

 

Random Thoughts: Is the Trump Campaign a Practical Joke?

Why are there toll booths on freeways?

I sprained my neck a month ago, and then sprained my back two weeks ago. God help me If the trend continues moving South.

Why do flight attendants come by to pick up trash roughly 30 seconds after serving your beverage, and then not again for an hour?

Life lesson number 243: when looking for a gas stop on the interstate, pick an exit with signs advertising either three or four options.  Any less and you’re likely to re-live a scene from Deliverance.  Any more, and you’re in for a traffic nightmare.

Why can be people be rejuvenated but never just juvenated?

Why do people wait in lines at airports to board? Assuming you’re not fighting for a seat on Southwest, what’s the benefit of being the first to sit in an uncomfortable seat the confines of which you’ll soon be itching to escape?

Having lived in California for almost a year now, I just don’t get the fuss about In-and-Out Burger. I’ll take Jack-in-the-Box, any day.

Why do I get the feeling that some day the entire Donald Trump campaign will be revealed as a giant hidden camera show?

Why do “jeans” and “shorts” end in an “s” based on having two sleeves, but “shirt” does not?

Seriously, I abhor every single thing about Donald Trump, an attention-seeking narcissist with no moral compass or coherent platform. So why do I keep finding myself rooting for his poll numbers to keep going higher?

A bad analogy is like a bad owl. Oh wait, I forgot where I was going with that.  

Why does “delighted” not mean the opposite of “lighted?”

People often ask me how the Bay Area culture is different from Nashville. But having lived in the West, Midwest, South and Northeast, I’ve found that people who live in urban areas are pretty much the same all over. The bigger cultural differences are between people who live in the city and those who live in the country. Having grown up somewhere in between, like Reese Witherspoon in Sweet Home Alabama, I’ve enjoyed getting to experience the best parts of both.    

I’d also be willing to listen to an argument that St. Louis goes in its own separate, third category.

The last half of August is to summer what those last few guests who just won’t leave are to your party: in each case, it was fun, but the moment is over and it’s time to move on.  

Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.

 Every time I see a “drug free zone” sign, I have the same reaction as when someone says, “I’m not racist, but.” In either case, if it was actually true, you wouldn’t need to say it.

Happy Labor Day, everyone. Enjoy your last bit of summer. I hope you come back from the break feeling juvenated.  

Hit and Run

As I reached to change the channel on my car radio, I suddenly heard a noise of another sort.

BOOOOOMMMM!

I thought it was an earthquake.  I screamed. My car swerved into both adjacent lanes.

But soon I realized my car was the only one shaking, swerving.  The closeness of a car in my rearview mirror revealed I’d somehow been rear-ended on the freeway, while driving the speed limit.

I steadied my car, thankful to be safe, while my fight-or-flight response pondered the appropriate move.  I said a quick prayer of there we no cars immediately beside me, and began to pull over to the shoulder to assess the damage.  The car that had hit me initially slowed down as well, and I began to think of what I was going to say to the jerk when we exchanged insurance information.

“Excuse me, dear sir. That pedal beside the accelerator is known as a ‘break.’  You see, it has a use in addition to keeping the accelerator company.  You can push on it if you would like your car to slow down, or even stop altogether. For instance, you can employ it to avoid running into the moving vehicle in front of you.

“Please be a dear and put this knowledge to use in your future endeavors.”

That’s basically what I was going to say. Some version of that, at least.

But I never got the chance.

As I slowed down, the car whipped in front of me and took off.

I sped up to catch it, but it whipped in and out of traffic with a recklessness I feared to match.  I got a quick view of the license plate and tried to set it to memory.

As I gave up on catching up to the car, I began to consider what had happened:

What kind of person leaves the scene of accident like this? How can anyone think this is ok? How can they live with themselves after doing something like this? I’m going to pull over, report this to the police and make sure they get …. Oh, crap. 

What was that plate number again? It started with 5nxa…

 I can’t believe I just forgot the number.  Some completely horrible person just did untold damage to the back of my car, and neck, and whoever it was is about to get away with it completely unscathed.  This can’t be happening.

Wait, way up ahead, I see the car getting off the freeway, apparently in hopes of leaving the trail cold and ditching me for good. Maybe this gives me a chance…

I speed up and pull off as well. The freeway gods smile upon me. The car is stopped at a traffic light.

The driver, at long last, has figured out the vehicle’s braking feature.

There’s a line of cars, so I can’t see the driver clearly, but I’ve now got his license plate. I repeat it aloud continuously, learning from my prior mistake. The driver sees me and again starts weaving through traffic. I follow for a while, but I’m having trouble keeping up and I’m not sure what else I can accomplish anyway.

I pull over and call the police. After a long wait a highway patrol office arrives. He seems more concerned about examining my insurance card, registration and driver’s license than he does about the car that just battered me.  He quickly hands me a card and leaves. When I told him I didn’t need an ambulance, I got the sense that he thought I was wasting his time.  He said he would go to the address to which the car was registered, and he would follow up.

I never heard from him again. When I calmed down enough to look at the card he gave me, I noticed that it didn’t have his contact information, just instructions on how to order the police report. I hope the officer was this hard on the criminal too.

Three things struck me at that moment as indisputably true: (1) resolving this isn’t going to be as easy as it seems like it ought to be; (2) Between my reckless, selfish assailant, and the indifferent police officer, people kind of suck sometimes; and (3) when I tell my parents in Alabama about this incident, they’re going to blame it on illegal immigrants. 

I was right on all counts.

I’m making progress on the first point.  The police report should be arriving soon, and I’m hoping it will included the name and address of the vehicle that I can forward to my insurance company.  I’m assuming my uninsured motorist coverage will have to swoop in and save the day regardless, but it’s worth a shot. The car’s been fixed, and after two weeks of a sprained neck, physical therapy has me on the mend and trending upward. 

As for the other driver, I don’t know if he escaped whatever he was running from.  Maybe he was driving on a suspended license or was drunk and didn’t want to cops to find out. Maybe he knew there was already a warrant out for his arrest, or that there would soon be if he were questioned, or maybe he was already fleeing for some other criminal act, which was why he rammed me in the first place.  I hope he gets what’s coming to him, somehow.

While I don’t know what the ultimate fate of the other driver will be, it at least appears he will not get away completely unscathed. California has a law that all parties must promptly report any serious accident, and provide insurance information, driver’s license numbers and license plate information to the DMV.  If one party reports and accident and the other doesn’t, the non-reporting party can’t renew their license plates until they provide the information.

So unless Mr. California 5NXA833 decides to cooperate, his reign of terror on the road won’t last too much longer.