Buildings

They're making Tinker toys out of wood again much to my relief. For a while there they were making them out of plastic. Some things shouldn't change. Like toys. It bugs me that Tonka trucks are made of plastic. Erector sets? Plastic. That's a crime. Lincoln logs thankfully are still made of wood. They are aren't they? I remember my first Erector set, all metal and about the size of a deck of cards. They crammed a lot in that little box. I never built anything recognizable 'cause I'm mentally retarded but it kept me busy until I lost most of the pieces, which was probably an hour. I was 5.

I was talking to a friend and pondering how we turn out. How when we're teens or college students and we think about how we'll be when we're all grown up and we imagine only good stuff. But few of us make it to grown-up-hood on the path we imagined nor does it look like we imagined. Well, mine didn't. Really, I don't think I had a path in mind nor what I'd look like. Somehow I imagined more hair and less gut though. I have the ability to be able to not think past next week which is probably how I got here. Think it's time to think in bigger chunks. Maybe a month at a time.

They built 4 stories of an 8 story building here in town and then ran out of money. Oops. During the 80's and 90's I'd go to Orlando a few times a year and there was this condo that had the same problem I guess. It was 10 or 15 stories and just a concrete shell that seemed to get a little dingier each time I saw it and eventually started to have vines creeping up the sides. It was a shame really. I love tall buildings and to see such a strong structure disappear behind neglect and poor planning was a crime. Look at me, I'm starting to cry. Somebody did come up with some money I think because I came back one day and it was finished and looked pretty sharp.

So I built things with my erector set and tinker toys. Structures, buildings. But just the shell of a building because there wasn't anything to put on it like walls, windows doors. Think that came later with the Legos that I never got. Thanks mom. But they were pretty awesome looking to me.

My Dad builds structures too. Of flesh and bone and personality. Of spirit. Strong structures. I got to see a lot of them in college and I was so impressed with His handy work. I still am. It's around this time I think we start adorning our building, putting on an education, a career, a spouse, children, homes...or at least how we start out. For some of us we now live in a gleaming glass tower of person-hood with fountains and nice landscape. Others of us it's a good solid office building, nothing fancy but it works. And some of us, well, our structure looks like the building in Orlando. Covered in dirt and mold and vines so that now people hardly recognize what's underneath. Sometimes it's our fault. Sometimes life just gets dumped on us. But no matter. It's what's below the glass or vines. It's the foundation, the building. That My Dad built. Such a good work. He is so good.

I wrote this for me, kinda typing therapy. Not real happy with the way my building looks after 47 years and I wish it were different in places. I know life is a work in progress all the way through and I keep working but some days I just cry. It's pretty hard and sometimes lonely. But I am somebody special, if to nobody else, my Dad. He is so good to me and He built a great structure on which I hope to hang something special enough to garner Him much applause and praise.It's never too late, for me or you.

Zzzzzzzz.......

There's this weird thing. You fall asleep and at some point you wake up and can hear whats going on around you but it's like only your mind is awake but your body can't move. Like you're only 1/2 awake. It's a real condition that has a name but I don't remember it so I know it's not just me. It happened to me in math class in 9th grade, at least that's the first time I remember it. I had pre-algebra right after lunch with Mr. Thomas. Who puts a math class right after lunch? Remember as a kid (this is going back a few years) riding down the highway in the back seat and the drone of the tires on the road and the ka-thunk ka-thunk of the joints in the road would lull you right into dreamland. Man that was good sleep! Mr. Thomas' voice was very monotone and sounded a lot like the highway and zzzzz... . Here was the weird thing. I was asleep, soft snore and drool coming out of my mouth and everything but I could hear him and and other sounds too but I couldn't move. I felt like I was in a box, all packed away and didn't know if it would open. So in my mind I paniced 'cause I'm claustrophobic and don't like being in small boxes. "Someone wake me up" I would scream. "In space no one can here you scream" was the tag line for the movie Alien. Apparently the same holds true in math class. Eventually Mr. Thomas would slap a ruler on the desk and yell "Wake up peckerhead" and bring me around. Don't think he was actually allowed to say that.

Hummm. That seemed like a long paragraph.

So I was talking to this guy the other day and he said he hated his job but it was all he knew. He felt trapped in a big box and couldn't get out. The top was open and he could see freedom, feel the breeze of freedom and hear others enjoying their freedom. But he was trapped. Had been and would be as far into the future as he could imagine. A lot of anguish in this guy. And truthfully I've been there a lot myself. I told him a few hollow pieces of advice about fixing your eyes on Jesus blah blah blah... . It did no good. Not that it wasn't good advice but when you're in the middle of some serious crap in life "fixing your eyes" is harder to do than gargling paint thinner. I really felt bad for the guy. He just wanted out.

This sleep thing. I still have that problem from time to time. During the night. Not math class (which, surprise surprise, I flunked) I "wake up" and know it's happening and I feel like I can't breath and I think I'm going to die and I buck and shake and flail about while my body remains still. Too freaky. Somewhere alone the way though I've managed to learn to moan out loud enough for Terri to hear and she rolls over and shoves me and that's all it takes to free me from my box. It sometimes is really scary. It seems so real. The trapped feeling I mean. So glad for my wife.

It's what I needed to do for my friend. A shove. A push. A big kiss. Ok, that's awkward. Sometimes what people need is not a word, spiritual though it may be, but an action. I could hear Mr. Thomas. I can hear Terri's snor.....breathing. Action is the word for the day kids. Go bowling, hiking, catch a movie, watch the game. Get together for lunch, for prayer, for fishing. Go serve someone in need. Together. Be a friend. Help them walk "through the valley of the shadow of death". Be there. That's all. Just be there.