Did you ever see someone do something and say to yourself "I could do that". And then you tried. Yikes! Not so easy huh? When I was a kid I had a friend who could draw like nobodies business. I remember in 3rd or 4th grade we were doing art in class and he was drawing Disney characters that look so much like the real thing you'd have thought he worked for the company. It seemed so easy- he just put pencil to paper and Micky or Donald appeared. Me? Not so much. I was having a hard time with squares and circles. At least when I paint I stay within the lines which is all I need I guess to make a living. By the way, last time I saw "Mr. I can draw Disney" he was unemployed.
Fishing is like the drawing thing to me. I see other people do it and it looks so easy - you cast out and reel in the big one. I see it on tv all the time. I know a couple of guys who fish, one for a living and one for sport and they always come home with a boat load and stories to tell. Easy. I go fishing a few times a year with my daughter and we come home with, well nothing. I don't get it. I do the same thing as the other guys and get nothing. There's gotta be some magic incantation or something. Sheesh. By the way, the last time we caught something was when we were standing on the bank holding our cane poles when "Mr. I can draw Disney" showed up and said how he'd caught over 2000 fish in this very spot last year. Right. He told my daughter to bait her hook and 'throw it in over there". She caught one within 2 minutes. I went home to practice my squares and circles.
Like Mr. Disney, I'm kinda unemployed at the moment. I have a job, just no one is calling for painting or handyman stuff right now. I hate being in this spot because I feel like a failure on some level, like I should have been doing something different. Who knows, maybe so. I'll tell you one thing I should have been doing is being more grateful and aware of my Dads provision throughout the year. I feel like I'm the only one who does this: when things are good and going smooth I kind of forget about how much He is instrumental in providing. Now things are bad and I can't pay my light bill and I feel guilty 'cause I realize I treat Him like some big sugar daddy or heavenly atm! And then the thoughts cross my mind like "God's not real" or "life is what you make it" or "He doesn't care much" or "you're broke, you think he cares?". Things like that. And I dwell on these thoughts and I can feel Gods "realness" slipping through my fingers and I feel so...lost.
I went fishing with my cousin once at a pond near his house. The guy that owned the land stocked the pond with bass and my cousin always came home with fish. So we're standing on the bank casting my plastic worm with my new Zebco33 rod and reel combo and as I'm reeling it in BAM, something grabs the worm and off it goes and I whip the rod up and start to reel it in. Somewhere in my frantic reeling the line gets tangled up in the reel and not knowing what to do I start to back up in hopes of dragging the beast on shore (I knew it was bigger than the other fish we'd caught). So I'm backing up, walking along the bank until I run into a fence. With nowhere to go I grab the line and try to pull it in and I'd do it some and then it would slip back through my hands and I'd get a better grip and pull some more then lose ground. It hurt like crazy but there was no way I'd let it go. There was a big fish down there, I could feel him, sense him and he was mine. I just couldn't let go. And I didn't. I finally pulled him ashore and dove on top of him so he wouldn't flop back in. He didn't. Almost 8lbs.!!! Wahoooo!!!
So I'm washing my truck today and feeling frustrated because of no work or money and how I feel stupid asking Dad for money on account of how I ignore Him so often and how it makes Him look look that sugar daddy when I do pay Him mind. And I get down on myself because I know the most amazing, right and perfect thing anywhere. He's so pure. Like a fresh snowfall on a mountain pasture that is so beautiful and smooth and untouched. Breathtaking and refreshing. I don't know, how do you describe God? He's my Dad and He cares about me and He made such a great sacrifice because He does. Pure love. And yet I doubt. In times of trouble and distress I doubt. I wonder why he keeps me hanging. How is the outcome of my life any different than some pagan guy trying to make his way through life? I am such a wretch.
The phone rang today. Some lady I've worked for before wants me to come paint a couple of rooms next week. Not much money but it'll put food on the table and pay the light bill. "I love you you know" He says. "I'm watching and I care." Sigh. There have been times I've wanted to walk away and maybe in my luke warm way I have. Giving lip service but not really living. Sometimes I want to let Him go. But I can't. He's like my fish - I've got something big and mysterious, something special on the other end of this line. My hands are bloody and hurting from the fight but I wont let go. I can't let go. He is awe. He is pure. He is perfect. He is kind. He loves me. He's God. He's my Dad.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Merry Christmas. Again.
When I graduated high school my mom and dad offered me a choice of a graduation gift : a car or a bicycle. I chose a bicycle. I tell you this so you'll know this post is being written by an idiot.
Will moved in next door when I was about 14 and he was a real live hippy. Long hair, a beard and he said things like "righteous, cool and peace man". He rolled his own ...uuhhh...smokes. I liked him a lot. I think 'cause he had long hair. I couldn't have that on account of being my my dad's son and being Southern Baptist. Long hair was thrown in the same category as dancing, card playing and rock music. Video games were soon to be added to that list. Will's coolest thing though was his bike, one of those light weigh touring jobbies that cost over a $2000 and looked so sleek and way fast. He was in college and during one summer he and some of his friends loaded up their bikes, backpacks and their...uuhhh..smokes and headed to Europe to tour the countryside. That, was livin'. That, is what hippies do and why I aspired to be one.
A few day ago my friend David asked on Facebook "to me Christmas means..." . I love to answer questions like this but I was stumped. After last years disappointment I wasn't sure I knew and it called for some maybe painful and embarrassing introspection. I'm still workin' through this.
I chose a bike because 1) Will had one and 2) I loved to ride. Besides, I live at home and could use my moms car, a light blue 1978 Impala station wagon, any time I wanted. Which was only to go on dates. And you can imagine how many chicks wanted to go out with a guy driving a light blue 1978 Impala station wagon. Especially when they found out I turned down a car in favor of a bike....sigh. Maybe best if some gene pools end.....
One Saturday I set out on a bike ride out Millhopper road to where it ended, turn around and head back. 2, hours tops. I got to the end of the road and ate a snack under a big oak tree and began to wonder where this cross road went. Being weak due to the ride I went with curiosity rather than sound wisdom and headed south until this road dead ended into another road. Decision time. Go back or down this road I think goes back into town. What the heck, I'm having a good time and I feel good so off I go. For 8 hours! Yeah, I got lost. In Newberry, Archer and a part of Gainesville I've still never found again. I even stopped and visited a pastor friend but was too embarrassed to say I was lost and to ask for the way back home. Gene pool..... . At some point in this trek I wondered what I was doing, where I was going and was I even on the right road. Mostly though I was just peddling, moving from one stretch of road to the next without thought of time or my destination. Just peddling. I do remember feeling despair a time or two when I didn't know if I was on the right road or going the right direction but kept on going.
So here it is, Christmas, and our situation isn't much different from last year, little money and little work. Enough, but no extra which in America is the same thing as being poor, at least at Christmas time. But I'm ok with it. Well, not ok, but more ok than last year, I'm not depressed like back then. To answer my friend Davids question, for me, Christmas is about giving gifts, being with family and eating fatty foods, decorating, singing carols and shopping. I wish I were more spiritual man and could say it's all about Jesus, Gods gift to us but I don't treat Him any different now than other times of the year. That is to say I ignore Him a lot in my day to day walk and for that I'm ashamed. Last year I said things were going to be different in the coming year, for the things that mattered I'd be more focused, determined, blah blah blah. But it was mostly more of the same and I feel sad about that because I always want to be better and do better. Maybe this year.
So I'm sitting in the church meeting and I'm sitting on the floor singing with the kids and feeling like such a hypocrite. Like a man who cheats on his wife and looks her in the eye and says I love you. Sometimes I'm such a lover of this world or of myself and I come to the meeting and sing with everyone else about loving Jesus but I look in His eyes and I know He knows it's not true. And I just feel so awful and I want to cry and run out but I don't do that in church 'cause it's not normal. Anyway we're singing and the words say something about once being stained but but now we are clean (I don't remember the song) And He say's to me "You're pretty dirty from this last year aren't you? You've done some dumb and thoughtless things haven't you? Lazy, right? Mark, It's like you've been one one of your bike rides again and you just start moving and hope you get there. A thoughtless ride, a thoughtless life. A shameful son. I know that must feel awful and hard to live with and live with it you must, part of that reaping and sowing thing. But don't forget to live with this too son: you are clean and spotless before me. My gift to you. I knew you before and after your life, saw what you'd do and be, all of it, and said it then and say it now, I choose you! My gift to you is you are clean. Forever. I love you. So sing and be glad. Merry Christmas boy.
Will moved in next door when I was about 14 and he was a real live hippy. Long hair, a beard and he said things like "righteous, cool and peace man". He rolled his own ...uuhhh...smokes. I liked him a lot. I think 'cause he had long hair. I couldn't have that on account of being my my dad's son and being Southern Baptist. Long hair was thrown in the same category as dancing, card playing and rock music. Video games were soon to be added to that list. Will's coolest thing though was his bike, one of those light weigh touring jobbies that cost over a $2000 and looked so sleek and way fast. He was in college and during one summer he and some of his friends loaded up their bikes, backpacks and their...uuhhh..smokes and headed to Europe to tour the countryside. That, was livin'. That, is what hippies do and why I aspired to be one.
A few day ago my friend David asked on Facebook "to me Christmas means..." . I love to answer questions like this but I was stumped. After last years disappointment I wasn't sure I knew and it called for some maybe painful and embarrassing introspection. I'm still workin' through this.
I chose a bike because 1) Will had one and 2) I loved to ride. Besides, I live at home and could use my moms car, a light blue 1978 Impala station wagon, any time I wanted. Which was only to go on dates. And you can imagine how many chicks wanted to go out with a guy driving a light blue 1978 Impala station wagon. Especially when they found out I turned down a car in favor of a bike....sigh. Maybe best if some gene pools end.....
One Saturday I set out on a bike ride out Millhopper road to where it ended, turn around and head back. 2, hours tops. I got to the end of the road and ate a snack under a big oak tree and began to wonder where this cross road went. Being weak due to the ride I went with curiosity rather than sound wisdom and headed south until this road dead ended into another road. Decision time. Go back or down this road I think goes back into town. What the heck, I'm having a good time and I feel good so off I go. For 8 hours! Yeah, I got lost. In Newberry, Archer and a part of Gainesville I've still never found again. I even stopped and visited a pastor friend but was too embarrassed to say I was lost and to ask for the way back home. Gene pool..... . At some point in this trek I wondered what I was doing, where I was going and was I even on the right road. Mostly though I was just peddling, moving from one stretch of road to the next without thought of time or my destination. Just peddling. I do remember feeling despair a time or two when I didn't know if I was on the right road or going the right direction but kept on going.
So here it is, Christmas, and our situation isn't much different from last year, little money and little work. Enough, but no extra which in America is the same thing as being poor, at least at Christmas time. But I'm ok with it. Well, not ok, but more ok than last year, I'm not depressed like back then. To answer my friend Davids question, for me, Christmas is about giving gifts, being with family and eating fatty foods, decorating, singing carols and shopping. I wish I were more spiritual man and could say it's all about Jesus, Gods gift to us but I don't treat Him any different now than other times of the year. That is to say I ignore Him a lot in my day to day walk and for that I'm ashamed. Last year I said things were going to be different in the coming year, for the things that mattered I'd be more focused, determined, blah blah blah. But it was mostly more of the same and I feel sad about that because I always want to be better and do better. Maybe this year.
So I'm sitting in the church meeting and I'm sitting on the floor singing with the kids and feeling like such a hypocrite. Like a man who cheats on his wife and looks her in the eye and says I love you. Sometimes I'm such a lover of this world or of myself and I come to the meeting and sing with everyone else about loving Jesus but I look in His eyes and I know He knows it's not true. And I just feel so awful and I want to cry and run out but I don't do that in church 'cause it's not normal. Anyway we're singing and the words say something about once being stained but but now we are clean (I don't remember the song) And He say's to me "You're pretty dirty from this last year aren't you? You've done some dumb and thoughtless things haven't you? Lazy, right? Mark, It's like you've been one one of your bike rides again and you just start moving and hope you get there. A thoughtless ride, a thoughtless life. A shameful son. I know that must feel awful and hard to live with and live with it you must, part of that reaping and sowing thing. But don't forget to live with this too son: you are clean and spotless before me. My gift to you. I knew you before and after your life, saw what you'd do and be, all of it, and said it then and say it now, I choose you! My gift to you is you are clean. Forever. I love you. So sing and be glad. Merry Christmas boy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)