Life or Pancakes?

Love this little exchange in the movie, Stranger Than Fiction, after Dr. Hilbert (played by Dustin Hoffman) has just told Harold Crick (Will Ferrell) that his impending death is inevitable so Harold should go and do some of the things he's always wanted to do until his certain demise takes him. Harold's first thought, of course, is that he wants to live.

Dr. Jules Hilbert: Hell Harold, you could just eat nothing but pancakes if you wanted.

Harold Crick: What is wrong with you? Hey, I don't want to eat nothing but pancakes, I want to live! I mean, who in their right mind in a choice between pancakes and living chooses pancakes?

Dr. Jules Hilbert: Harold, if you pause to think, you'd realize that that answer is inextricably contingent upon the type of life being led... and, of course, the quality of the pancakes.

Truth of the matter is, much of the time, I may as well be eating the pancakes. Now, I'm not saying that I, or anyone else for that matter, need to be running down a daily/weekly/monthly to-do list, and certainly not someone else's to-do list, to fulfill some nebulous life productivity requirement. That's just spinning wheels... well, a lot of the time it is. Often times, the right thing to do might be to... take a nap, complete a Sudoku, or be still and know that God Is. However, way too much of my time seems to be spent just making the hours go by until it's finally time to do that one thing I've been waiting to do. In the meantime, I miss so much.

There were several times when I was younger and even more recently, I promised myself, "I'm going to stop taking so much for granted. This is life. Live it." Broken promises. Some things, sure, I throw myself into - at least when I'm of that mindset. But there's always so much else i could be doing.

I always say I want to be writing novels, songs, shorts -- yet I'll go weeks without writing.

People I love and care for have asked me to pray diligently for them -- I'll go days or weeks without praying.

I want to fish more -- but I don't ever go fishing.

I've sworn I'm going to learn to play that guitar in my room -- but I hardly touch it.

I've got friends -- but they reach out to me far more than I reach to them.

I say "I love you, God" -- but keep Him at arm's length.

Now, I've gotten pretty good at some video games, and I can probably win a few television trivia contests. And please, quiz me on Dolphin football, Reds baseball, or Auburn sports. In and of themselves, all of those things are alright - and some uniquely part of me. But here's a confession - since I was divorced, I moved into a house in a neighborhood and have lived there almost two years... and I can't tell you the name of one other person (except the last names of the neighbors to my left because their name's on their mailbox and sometimes I get their mail) in the whole dad gum neighborhood. Well, maybe one or two of the kids - but that's it. We're to love our neighbors -- and everyone's our neighbors -- but hell, Rich, your neighbors are your neighbors!!!

That stack of pancakes is starting to look awful good.

In the end, I guess I can sum it up in a famous one-liner from another great movie:

Andy Dufresne: Get busy living, or get busy dying.

Church Sign: Death and Taxes

A local church here in Huntsville has a sign up that reads:

Death and Taxes - Are you ready for both?

My answer to that is: only for death. It's April 15th, and I still need to finish my taxes. Hopefully, all you mature, independent, patriotic citizens of these United States are a little better off than me in those particular pursuits (maturity, independence, patriotism, etc.).

For what it's worth, here I am blogging at midnight. I have to laugh because there just aren't any good excuses.

Where I Fall Short

Just a very, very few of the areas where I fall short:

Love for others. Honesty. Hard work. Friendliness. Loyalty. Faithfulness. Personal discipline. Pridefulness. Anger. Parental guidance. Spiritual discipline. Listening. Broken vows. Dietary concerns. Being a neighbor. Hard-heartedness. Prioritizing. Competitiveness and fair play. Showing grace. Boundaries. Stewardship. Following through. Foul language. Sympathy. Lustfulness. Kindness. Self-indulgence. Bearing others' burdens. Protecting my own heart. Prayer. Apathy. Love for God.

So I confess, work on, and pray about those things where I'm the one holding the hammer and driving the nails. On the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter, those sins haunt me. But for all those things... Jesus died. And Easter Sunday's coming.

A What-If Scenario

Suppose you had a young friend, maybe someone for whom you babysat a good deal, someone you mentored, or someone you taught or coached, who -- as many kids in his/her same unfortunate environment do when they get a little older -- made tragic and destructive decisions (perhaps armed assault, manslaughter, drug trafficking, etc. -- pick one or name another) that landed them in prison with a lengthy sentence but one that most likely will be reduced. Obviously, you care about your friend a good deal, but at the same time, you're not in your friend's inner confidences and not necessarily one of the persons he or she is most apt to turn to for help.

When this person is released from incarceration, the most likely avenues for livelihood your friend (add in his/her child(ren)) will have, now with a permanent soiled police record, is going back to the same destructive practices that got him/her into his/her current predicament. Initially, your friend has made the promise-to-self not to go back to the same way of life, but as far as actually getting out, what are the real means there?

With all this in mind, that's not what you want for your friend. Certainly, there has to be something better than the dead-end job that Red (played by Morgan Freeman) received in The Shawshank Redemption that couldn't support one person, much less a person with children. Especially when a person's young. Prison's not a rehabilitator, but we/you/I, as part of The Church (if you include yourself in That), need to be the Love of God in an instance like this, right? I think this is a tough question that is rooted in many of our societal ills, but for us as individuals, we have to take on questions like these, that are real to us, on case-by-case bases.

What's the answer or what are some answers, then?

Because if I/you/we aren't going to try to do something, then sure as death, nobody else is, either.

Who's Behind Our Now?

Wanted to share a little write-up by my Sunday School teacher, Heinrich Dubose-Schmidt, after he listened to a forty-five minute R.C. Sproul commentary on the life of Joseph (Old Testament). I'll add just a few thoughts at the end. Here's what he wrote:

Remember when Joseph had suffered for 13 years but had later been made the Prime Minister of all Egypt? His brothers come to Egypt looking for food during the 7 year famine, but they don't recognize Joseph at all although he recognizes them. As part of a test to see if they've changed, Joseph accuses them of being spies and says they must prove themselves by leaving one of their own (Simeon) until they can bring back their youngest brother still at home (Benjamin).

They return home without their brother, and tell their father Jacob (also known as Israel) all that had transpired. The brothers also discover that all their silver to pay for the food is in their sacks, and they are all frightened. Remember -- Jacob thinks his youngest, most-favored son, Joseph, is dead, and now he's given news that one of his older sons is hostage in Egypt and the Prime Minister is demanding to see his youngest Benjamin. In Genesis 42:36, Jacob utters these words: "You have deprived me of my children. Joseph is no more and Simeon is no more, and now you want to take Benjamin. Everything is against me!" (NIV)

As you read those words, I hope Jacob's despair and anguish came through. From his perspective, the whole world is against him; even as a believer, he was filled with despair at the circumstances of life. But, think about the reality for a moment -- Simeon is probably safer now than he's ever been in his life under the care of the Prime Minister (Joseph his brother). Joseph is not "no more" but is alive! In fact, he is working to preserve Jacob's entire family. Benjamin will be safe in Egypt, and while things seem bleak, everything is working out for Jacob.

So what does this mean for us? It doesn't mean that all of our tough times will have a rosy ending. It does mean that we should trust in our God who sovereignly and purposefully works all things to His glory and works all things for our good. The path we're on right now may seem dark and bleak, but God is working in and through and around us. We must trust in His fatherly care.
-------

At least a few times in my life, I have railed to God about circumstances that have afflicted me -- situations that have come about by chance, personal decisions, personal wrong-doing, or others' wrong-doing. Certainly, I can identify with Jacob in this story when he cries, "Everything is against me!" While sometimes I realize that I only have myself to blame, at other times all I can see is a vast inequity of how random, or sometimes calculated, circumstances have stacked against me. As these life events unwind, I usually do find myself going to God, but do I really ever think, behind the scenes, the Lord is working life out for my benefit? For my good? Hardly ever. And it's hard. Very hard to think this way when life appears bleakest.

Nonetheless, a story like this one encourages me to rethink my own attitudes, and not only my attitude about life but my attitude toward God. Because I'm human, I see the surface but don't see in 3-D, figuratively speaking. God is sovereign, and He does. He Is. I can't figure out the Almighty, and really He's God, and it just is that way. However, I know Him enough through Jesus, my Good Shepherd, to know He loves me. At the same time, He loves me enough not to give me everything I want. Heinrich's last paragraph sums it up. Not all our endings will end up rosy. Our job, my job and my attitude, has to be to trust God anyway, through anything and everything.

No matter what's happening now, Someone's behind it.

Catching Up to the Present: Ken Just Bought TP&tHBs Greatest Hits, and I Just Started Watching the X-Files

Just the other day, Ken called me from the music section of one of the department stores, I think it was Target, as he was leafing through CDs and picking a couple to buy. I started asking about his choices and if the store had this or that. Ken indulged me, like he often does, because he's a great guy. A lot of what I'd recommend, I knew Target wasn't the place, but that didn't stop me from trying. Subsequent to a few band names that probably had him shaking his head, Ken decided it'd be easier to tell me what they did have rather than search for a lot of CDs they wouldn't. He started listing some music where I was "no", "no, you don't want that" and "oh, you've got to be kidding". Then, he casually mentioned Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers Greatest Hits, on sale. What? TP&tHBs? Even Ken, methinks, would have that staple. I mean, I know him enough to know that he'd like TP, and, really, I was kind of surprised that his CD collection didn't have at least one of the TP/HBs classics -Damn the Torpedoes, Hard Promises, Long After Dark, or Southern Accents. As he scanned the songs on the CD, he knew American Girl but after that, unless he was yanking my chain -- always possible, but he sounded honest -- he didn't recognize hardly anything. Listen to Her Heart? I Need to Know? Don't Do Me Like That? Even the Losers? Here Comes My Girl? The Waiting? No, no, no, no, no, and no - he said he didn't recognize anything - I think I may have gotten a hesitant yes at Don't Come Around Here No More or Freefallin'. Now, I'm no psychiatrist, but this, to me, sounded like an urgent cry for help. My thoughts were: where had Ken been all this time and please, Ken, be joking? Immediately, I told him to get the CD. I went so far as to say I'd buy it from him for the sale price plus tax if he didn't like it, even though I already have it and have had it for years. Inside, because I'm a little bit, or a lot a bit, of a jerk sometimes, that little "music elitist" (which is really a joke - because I have no talent for singing or playing an instrument, and really only have this subjective taste like anyone else, but mine is just a little more narrow - and for whatever reason, I take pride in that -- yeah, that's the SIN pride), part of me scoffed at my friend (I'm apologizing now Ken - SORRY!) for not being on the musical "in", whatever that is, for so, so long.

Mirror reflection.

Just a day before that, I was in Wal-Mart with my kids, and I saw a package deal, Season 1 and Season 2 of The X-Files, on for $16.99. I remember when the X-Files hit way back in the early to mid-1990s, and I had a lot of good folks recommend it to me. Because I am like I am (well, I've been working on it since), I resisted, then, in getting caught up in something about which everyone else raved, even though, when hearing about the episodes and arc, I knew I'd like it. Over the years, I've caught a few X-Files shows in syndication, and I've always gotten wrapped up in them when I've watched. Since the syndicated shows I watched were at 1 a.m., however, it made it hard to keep up a steady diet. Plus, there was no chronology in the shows I watched. A few had Mulder and Scully, but others had Scully and Doggett and then Doggett and someone else, and then I couldn't figure out what all had taken place. Anyway, to make a short story that I've made longer but am trying to rectify that from the rambling mess of where this post could go, I bought The X-Files Season 1/Season 2. I'm five episodes into Season 1 and, of course, am hooked. All the accolades, at least to this point in my watching, seem well-deserved. And it just makes me think, what in the world was I thinking back in time when other folks, people I trusted and that knew me, told me that I'd love The X-Files? Not hard to see that it was, once again, pride. On the scale of things, I'm fortunate that watching a TV show isn't a big deal, so this time, my pride hurting me is just looking silly for starting to watch a TV show now that I could have been "in on" sixteen years ago. No real harm. Unfortunately, and as an aside, my pride has, believe it or not, reared it's smirky face in other, BIGGER, instances, for real harm - but maybe those another time. And maybe not.

For now, if anyone is a fan of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers or The X-Files, you're welcome to crack on me and/or Ken for being so out of the loop for no good reason. You can especially crack on Ken, because my feelings get hurt easily. I like giving, but taking's not really my thing, if that's okay ;). Nah, I'm kidding, give me what you got!

OR! You could take a higher road, and share some of either your TP or X-File insight with us.

OR! Even better, you could join in my lament on living in the past, having to catch up to the present, and hardly ever glimpsing the future. What are some of the "in"-type things, that you're trying and/or might like now, that were more popular back then. Hopefully, not wearing plaid golfer pants (I've still got enough pride in me to scoff at you if you're doing that, and scoff I will).

AND! Just so everyone realizes I'm not sociopathic without a conscience, the moral I've learned from all this, because it's so very important to apply life lessons correctly, is this:

DON'T EVER LAUGH AT KEN. NEVER. NOT EVER.
NOT FOR ANY REASON AT ALL.

Seek Ye First the Kingdom of God

For Christians that read this blog, I want to ask what may sound like a basic question, but I think it goes deeper than that. More than that, I wanted to ask -- if you're willing to share -- how you specifically go about it in your life.

In Matthew 6 (sermon on the mount), Jesus is talking about worry, more precisely, not worrying about your life, what you're going to eat, drink, or wear. He ends this part of the discussion by telling his audience not to worry about tomorrow; live this day. In the middle of all that, Jesus drops this famous bomb in verse 33:

But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. (KJV)

The question is: what does it mean to you to seek God (or the Kingdom of God) first, and how do you practically go about that in your personal life?

Here's a thing. I'd like, if we can, for our answers to be understandable to anyone reading. So let's say one hypothetical answer a person might give for seeking God first is: dependence on Him in everything (or total surrender to God's Will). That's what it says in my NIV Study Bible . Well, even as a Christian, I sometimes don't understand that terminology or how one might go about that. For example, do I depend on God in finding a job? I'm enough of a nay-sayer, I suppose, to ask, if one claims he/she is totally dependent on God, why go to an interview? Just talk to God, believe in Him, and wait for the company's phone call because He'll let that job drop in your lap. But, of course, that's not the way God or the world works. So, again, let's discuss the question in practical terms as much as we care to knock it around. I do think it's an important question, and it's likely more confusing than a Christian might think from the outside looking in.

Hope that makes sense, because I don't want to scare folks off from answering the question. Thanks, guys!

Gaining a Little Perspective

The great philosopher, Huey Lewis, has given us quite a few nuggets over the years. However, these lyrics from the 1996 album Time Flies... gave me pause recently:

Even though we might be having a few doubts
Let's take the time and try to work things out
The little things we fuss and fight about
Ain't gonna matter 100 years from now

I guess the ultimate objective is to only do, talk, and think about things that have eternal significance, but let's be a little more practical. Forget eternity and forget 100 years for a minute.

Use your own definition for what you think it means to "matter", then stop before you move a muscle, dwell on a feeling, or open your mouth and consider whether that action, thought, or comment will be something that still matters 5 years or even 1 year from now.

How much might your life and your relationships improve if you eliminated a couple of negative behaviors, feelings, or words that might still have legs a year from now?

How much impact could you have if you spent just a little more time, money, or brain cells on something that will still matter a year from now?

God created and gave us time, and the enemy loves to pervert it by convincing us to live in the past, worry about the future, or lose perspective on the present.

I pray we won't.

Realm of Personality?

No, this is not a post about the late '80's group Living Colour.

Dick and I have long been admirers of Florence Littauer's Personality Plus book. And for just as long, we've had a running debate over whether I'm melancholy or sanguine. (And whether or not he has a personality at all.)

Since some of you seemed to enjoy the Versus post, I thought you might enjoy taking Florence's personality test as well.

An on-line version can be found here.

And if you'd like to have a hardcopy to test a family member or co-worker you can get that here.

There are other versions out there using animals, Star Trek characters, etc. But I've always preferred the Littauer test.

Try it out. It's fun. You may well learn something about yourself. And if you share your results in the comments, I'm sure Richard will oblige you by insisting you're wrong.

BTW, I've included the meanings of the personality types below according to the Greeks, but I highly recommend reading Florence's book for a complete understanding.

Good luck and keep a good humour!!

The sanguine type is cheerful and optimistic, pleasant to be with, comfortable with his or her work. According to the Greeks, the sanguine type has a particularly abundant supply of blood (hence the name sanguine, from sanguis, Latin for blood) and so also is characterized by a healthful look, including rosy cheeks.

The choleric type is characterized by a quick, hot temper, often an aggressive nature. The name refers to bile (a chemical that is excreted by the gall bladder to aid in digestion). Physical features of the choleric person include a yellowish complexion and tense muscles.

The phlegmatic temperament. These people are characterized by their slowness, laziness, and dullness. The name obviously comes from the word phlegm, which is the mucus we bring up from our lungs when we have a cold or lung infection. Physically, these people are thought to be kind of cold, and shaking hands with one is like shaking hands with a fish.

The melancholy temperament. These people tend to be sad, even depressed, and take a pessimistic view of the world. The name has, of course, been adopted as a synonym for sadness, but comes from the Greek words for black bile. Now, since there is no such thing, we don’t quite know what the ancient Greeks were referring to. But the melancholy person was thought to have too much of it!

Redemption in Elizabethtown

Most people, it seems, didn't like the movie Elizabethtown. Reviews were not good (27% fresh at Rotten Tomatoes), as I recall, and if you go through the blogsphere, you'll probably find more people that hated it than loved it. Bad-script, bad-diaglogue, and stale-performance glutton that I must be, I really enjoyed the movie, and more specifically, I loved the redemption aspect in the movie. For me, it brought to life a lot of the parallels of my own personal Christian journey, and I'd imagine it might resonate with some others (27% of our readership, maybe?) as well... if you can allow that Claire is the Christ-figure in the movie. Obviously, with a movie about a romance between a guy and a girl, this analogy won't be perfect, but it's works for me.


“Claire literally saves his life.” ~ Cameron Crowe, the movie's writer and director. "His life", here, refers to the life of the movie's protagonist, Drew Baylor, played by Orlando Bloom.


The beginning of the movie is where Baylor recognizes his sin. He states later that developing shoes is the only thing he knows how to do. Essentially, that's life for him. To wit, we receive this narrative epiphany by the lead character:



As somebody once said there's a difference between a failure and a fiasco. A failure is simply the non-presence of success. Any fool can accomplish failure. But a fiasco... a fiasco is a folktale told to others that makes other people feel more alive because it didn't happen to them.


A fiasco. In life, if I'm honest, that's what I am. A train wreck. We tell ourselves something else most of the time. Socially, who wants to show the truth? We walk around trying to act as if we have at least some of it together. If I grow up not messing up too many times, have a good career, a respected family, get my retirement in line, graduate my kids from college, go to church on Sundays, help out in the community when I have time, at the end of all this God's gonna invite me in, saying, "Welcome, My good and faithful servant." Another line in the movie, spoken by Claire, penetrates the real truth.


Do you ever just think 'I'm fooling everyone'? Drew Baylor's reply is honest. You have no idea.


The truth for many of us is so much different than the facade we put up. I verbally abuse my kids/my parents all.the.time. I spend every leisure minute playing video games or fishing or on the computer or watching TV, away from everyone else unless it's on my terms. I told one friend that my other friend was a loser, because I always want to make myself look and feel better. I cheated on my wife/husband/significant other. I want to skip church this Sunday... well, every Sunday. I hate my job. I don't have time or will to pray. I scammed the government on my taxes. I'm divorced. I'm a drunk. I physically abused my child. I read/looked at crap on the Internet. I stabbed my best friend in the back. I'm "living in sin." I hate my husband. I don't tithe or give to charity. I like taking drugs. I want a better everything. I want my neighbor's wife. I can't help lying. I can't help cussing. I want to be left alone. Or worse, I'm so much better than all the people who do any of the stuff on this list. We're a fiasco.


And if we can't come to the realization ourselves, at least we have helpful hands to lead us there. Family, friends, co-workers, church members, teammates, enemies, books, movies, the Bible... to get the Law portion of what we've done down. In Elizabethtown, Alec Baldwin, plays shoe guru and corporate exec Phil Devoss, who enlightens his protege on the realization that Drew's already come to:


How do I make the concept of $979 million dollars more real to you? It's the operating budget of a midsize country... a small civilization. It's big! It's so big you could round it off to a billion dollars.


The sin is a gap so big that it could never be made up, never be paid off. You're stuck with that legacy the rest of your life. And really, with a legacy like that, it's not only going to affect you, but it's going to affect your children and your children's children, down to the fourth generation, quite possibly.


The result of this horrifying realization is death, and that's just what Drew Baylor aims to do. Kill himself. However, just before he does exactly this, he's informed of another death, that of his father. When his sister calls him while he begins the act of suicide, Drew's informed, because his mom and sister are in such bad states, that he's the one who needs to carry out his father and family's wishes for cremation. So he avoids killing himself for the time being, but instead walks around like death warmed over.


However, on the way to Elizabethtown, his dad's hometown, he meets his redeemer, Claire Colburn, who happens to be an airline stewardess. At first, little does he know the effect she;ll have in his life, and really, he doesn't want anything to do with her. Nonetheless, she gives him some directions that he has a hard time following - and that seems true-to-life for me, at least for some, with our first encounters with Jesus.


Yet, through the movie, Claire and Drew get to know each other better. However, Drew can't tell her his deep, dark secret. Not until later in the movie after they've been intimate. The next morning, Claire's out the door after trying gently but unsuccessfully to rouse Drew, but he awakes soon afterward and realizes she's gone. He runs after her, and she turns to him with the open and welcoming smile of someone willing to save him, saying:


Just tell me you love me and get it over with.


Finally, though, he comes out with what he's been hiding:


Four days ago, I lost a major shoe company... frankly you could round it off to one billion dollars! And by tomorrow afternoon, everyone will know. Something's gonna be published that pinpoints me as the most spectacular failure in the history of my profession, which is all I know how to do. And I've been here this whole time trying to be responsible and charming and live up to this success that doesn't exist. I have a very dark appointment with destiny. That's my secret. That's who I am.


Drew states what I alluded to previously - we try to be responsible and charming, and we try to live up to a success that doesn't exist. Not to belittle sin, because Christ paid the ultimate price for it, but rather in the relational context, I think Claire's answer is perfect:


That's it?


The next exchange is funny, because here's it's where we think that God can't forgive us for this monumental sin or the monumental sinner we are, while He just wants us to love Him.


Drew: Yes, that's it.
Claire: I guess I just thought a small part of you might be a small bit sad to see me go. But I guess this is all mostly about a shoe.
Drew: Of course, I'm sad about you. But this is just a little bit bigger than you and me. And by the way, I didn't say million. I said billion. A billion dollars! That's a lot of million!
Claire: So you failed.
Drew: No, you don't get it.


It's like God's saying, "Love me, Rich." And I'm saying, "But God, I've done this. How could you ever love me. I did this. I'm a wreck." And God's replying, "Yep, you did that. You surely failed there, Rich. But I'll take your wreck, thank you. Love me anyway." "No God, wait!" I counter, "You still don't seem to get it." As laughable as I sound here, there's a lot of truth in this exchange - and I don't mean just once. This is recurring theater between God and me. So finally, as Claire says, God puts it in perspective:


So you failed. Alright you really failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You think I care about that? I do understand.


You have the Creator of the Universe, your Creator, right here, Rich, right in front of you, loving you enough to have died for you, knowing every last foible and flaw and all the grandiose, colossal fiascos you've had, have, and will have in your life. I love you, and I'm not going anywhere. Just tell me you love me and get it over with. Ah, grace. That's really the whole story right there.


At the end of the movie, after Drew's dad's ceremony has completed, Claire gives Drew a road map, with cassettes of her voice to help lead him along this time of wilderness and introspection. I love this part of the movie as Drew goes from place to place, seeing it, somewhat, through the eyes of his redeemer, and spreading his father's ashes at special places along the way. And then he comes to a reckoning place:


Here you have reached a fork in the map. You can go to your car and the rest of the directions will take you home. Or... look for a girl in a red hat who's waiting for you with an alternate plan.


Drew decides then and there that he's not going to try it his own way anymore. He'll thankfully go with the one who loves him. Because we're human, we know, even that doesn't make things perfect. Additionally, we also know that even if Drew did go the other way, God would have sought him or waited on him - He's saved him.


What an awesome God we have that loves us despite the fiasco. Loved us enough that He sent Himself, His Son, to the Cross for us. Boyoboy, do I need to remind myself of that over and over. Everything that we couldn't do, can't do, and never could do, He's done. That's a great love story.

The Second "A" in SHAZAM! - The Weakest Link

Remember Filmation's Shazam/Isis hour? How the intro for the show Shazam! started? The loud narrator bellowed:

Solomon
Hercules
Atlas
Zeus
Achilles
Mercury

Five legends of Greek myth (well, Hercules was the Roman name for Heracles or Herakles) and one Old Testament king empowered Billy Batson to become Captain Marvel. Even years ago when I watched the show, I wondered about Solomon, Hercules, and Achilles, because they were mere mortals. However, Solomon is the wisest man to ever live, so I can roll with that. Hercules/Heracles was a son of Zeus, basically the strongest mortal to live, conquered the Twelve Labours, and in most mythologies assumed god-hood after his death. Not so, with the petulant son of Peleus, whose greatest feat was the stacked deck slaying of the Trojan hero, Hector, but his overwhelming trait was his all-consuming rage. If you have an extra "A", why not Apollo? Even for Captain Marvel, Achilles would seem to be the chink in his armor. The vulnerable heel certainly played that part for the Greek hero, himself, and as it did for him, it has now for me.

Back in mid-January, I was playing the game I love most to play, basketball. Outmanned and down by a few baskets, our team was down and trying to put on a run. I received a pass on the wing and headed for the goal. A tall fellow that could jump out of the gym had gotten back and stood between me and the goal, so I pulled up for a jump shot from about fifteen feet. Going up, I shot the ball true, but at the height of my jump as the ball rolled off my fingers --

POP!

Coming down, I reached for the back of my right leg and crumbled to the floor. In that split second before I turned, I saw the ball go through the hoop, but that was going to be the smallest of consolations. It felt like someone had kicked me as hard as they could in the lower part of my calf. I looked, but there was no one around behind me... and I knew. Most of the other guys that came running up thought it was an ankle. Oh, how I wish that would have been the case. But like I said, I knew.

A couple of the men that play at the courts had gone through ruptured Achilles surgery before, and they recommended doctors, who after a limp-thru shower, I called. None of the doctors they mentioned were available that Friday afternoon, so, due to immediate need, I took one that was available. As soon as I got to the office and filled out the paperwork, the attending nurse asked me what was wrong. I went through the specifics hoping he had another option than what I figured, but he said, quite memorably, "Male, age 35-50, sports-related, feels like you were kicked in the back of the leg... it's an Achilles tear." Fortunately, the doctor that met with me was very good. We went through my limited options and decided on the course of action.

Just as an aside, I should mention, ruptured Achilles are one of the most painful injuries with which the person/victim will have to deal. As long as I had my leg elevated, the pain was bearable, but once I had to move, and the blood came rushing down -- excruciating. Over and over. For a few weeks - the days before the surgery and then at least a couple of weeks subsequent. Not to mention, being on crutches and having to use one leg for all weight-bearing, especially taking stairs at home or work, all that got old really fast.

After, I had surgery -- the doctor said afterward that my tendon looked like two ends of a mop -- and I was in a hard cast for a few weeks followed by a boot. Once the boot went on, therapy started. While I was going through the proscribed therapy with The Orthopaedic Center, I was good about completing the exercises they gave me at home. The process of coming back from an Achilles tear is slow, but I could tell everything was positive.

Then, baseball season hit, and I coached my younger son's baseball team. I don't know what most of the parents of the kids I drafted must have thought seeing a guy lumbering around in a big, black boot trying to teach baseball skills. Nonetheless, as the season went on, I got through it, and in the middle, my doctor told me I could go without the boot. In the last check up I had, four or five months out, he told me that I could start slowly going back into my activities. While in helping out with baseball, I have begun a little running, a sprint here and there after fly balls or teaching baserunning, but nothing much. However, because of inactivity for the most part other than these little baseball episodes, I'm up in weight, pretty much the most I've ever weighed -- which, I'm sure, fits nicely in with a little borderline high-blood pressure. Then, here and there, not all the time but enough for people to notice, I still walk with a limp, and I'm thinking on bad days, I probably always will.

The huge thing for me is that with everything going on in the Spring, my home therapy basically stopped. Baseball season, with two sons, head coaching one and assistant coaching the other, is pretty consuming. More than that, discipling myself, in any pursuit, and that's probably a separate post if there ever was one, whether it's physical exercise, spiritual disciplines (prayer, Bible reading, tithing), house or yard chores, internal struggles, etc., I'd say that's my tragic flaw. With all that, psychologically I run into problems because I feel like if I would have done right, continued my daily therapeutic exercises, my Achilles would be better off. Since I haven't done that, now what?

The thing of it is, well, I'm sort of at a confidence crisis point. Inside, I want to go back and start shooting baskets and working my way into running and then sprinting up and down a court. Physically, I'm certain that I'm at and past a point where I could at least be shooting by myself, doing some slow suicides, and getting myself back into some semblance of playing shape. Tempted I've been, but I haven't done it yet. Back before the injury, I had been having what I thought was a little tendonitis in my left Achilles. It's always surprised me that it was my right Achilles that popped. And when I feel the back of my leg, all the scar tissue in my right Achilles makes it thicker than the other, and it doesn't "feel" right. Probably my biggest issue is that I'm almost 42, and if I'm going to go back and play, I want to be able to go back and play like I've played in the past -- being competitive at any court I play. Because, if the best I can be is a shadow of what I once was on the basketball court just jogging up and down a court, trying unsuccessfully to guard other players, and throwing up the occasional set shot, that sort of defeats the purpose. At the same time, I've been told by different people, if you tear an Achilles twice, you're done. Plus, I can't help thinking, what if I tear my left one. I'll be walking like Quasimodo for the rest of my life. I never, ever want to go through that pain again. Bunches and bunches of mental games I let play in my head. Risk-reward, risk-reward, risk-reward.

This is life, though, right? And it has to be lived. Fears faced. Man meant to overcome, and all that. To be honest, I think I'm a shell of all that right now. As touched upon, all of this probably starts with a little self-discipline, the thing in life I'm worst at. Oh joy. Or perhaps if I just say, "SHAZAM!!!" Hey, here comes the lightning now. Life change time.

Maybe I'll go purchase a basketball today and find some outdoor hoop somewhere... I'll let you know.

Versus

We make choices everyday. Some of them are big, important conscious decisions, and then there are these.

If faced (and you are) with having to make a choice of one versus the other, which would you pick?

Give us your preferences and the reasons why in the comments, and we'll use your answers and a very scientific formula to draw some interesting conclusions about your personality.

Good luck! And check back to see how you did.

1) Movie theater Junior Mints vs. Movie theater Goobers
2) Trip to the Beach vs. Trip to the Mountains
3) Elliptical Machine vs. Treadmill
4) Spring vs. Autumn
5) Milk Chocolate vs. Dark Chocolate
6) Interstate vs. Scenic highway
7) Savage tan vs. SPF50
8) Being sad vs. Being scared
9) 2 ten dollar bills vs. 1 twenty dollar bill
10) Birkenstocks vs. Crocs
11) Bad odor vs. Bad taste
12) Ripped pants vs. Wet shirt
13) Belching vs. Flatulence
14) Chicken salad sandwich vs. Tuna salad sandwich
15) Classic styles vs. Trendy styles
16) Old friend vs. New friend
17) Dolphin vs. Porpoise
18) Water slide vs. Roller coaster
19) Jules Verne vs. Robert Louis Stevenson
20) Goatee vs. Soul Patch
21) Being the recipient of a thoughtful gesture vs. Being the recipient of a compliment
22) Nap on the couch vs. Nap in a hammock
23) Holidays vs. Vacation
24) Aisle vs. Window
25) Slapstick vs. Wit
26) Logic vs. Emotion
27) Whipped cream vs. Cool Whip
28) High School Reunions vs. Family Reunions
29) ALF vs. ET
30) Canadians vs. Australians
31) Gifts vs. Gift Certificates
32) Jet skiing vs. Water skiing
33) Yardwork vs. Housework
34) Ostentatious vs. Precocious
35) Phone call vs. Email
36) Winning the lottery vs. Finding buried treasure
37) Sweating vs. Shivering
38) “Oh no, you di-unt.” vs. “Don’t even go there.”
39) Blue ink vs. Black ink
40) Ukelele vs. Bag pipes
41) Rainbows vs. Sunbeams
42) The sound of your own voice vs. The way you look in photos
43) Extremely firm handshake vs. Extremely weak handshake
44) Runny nose vs. Nagging cough
45) Packing vs. Unpacking
46) A hole in the toe of your sock vs. A hole in the seat of your underwear
47) Zoos vs. Botanical gardens
48) Trip to the dentist vs. Tax day
49) Awkward comment vs. Awkward silence
50) Too much Rich vs. Too little Rich

Wait a minute. Were #49 and #50 redundant?

There Can Be Only One!!

No, this isn't a post about the movie Highlander, though I'd heartily recommend that you see it if you've been living in a cave and haven't already. See it for the Queen soundtrack if for no other reason.

This is a post that was inspired by Rich's latest Faulkneresque post about tennis. Not sure if you've had a chance to read it all yet. (I drank a couple Red Bulls and still needed to work in a couple of power naps before I got all the way through it.) But mixed in amongst the riveting tennis play-by-play I gleaned the somewhat tragic tale of a competitor who is consistently shackled with second place.

Rich has historically referred to second place as "the first place loser". So color me a tad bit surprised that he sympathized (or dare I say empathized) with Andy Roddick's plight, if you can call making the Wimbledon finals a plight.

Usually, like battles between immortals, there can be only one winner. Unfortunately, this sage reminder is often shared by well-meaning friends while the battle wounds are still all too fresh to appreciate its truth and in any case does not take away the bitter disappointment. I'm fairly certain that Roddick took little solace in knowing that there are many who would have gladly taken his (second) place.

Still, I think there is a universality to the pain and groanings associated with coming up just short of reaching your goal even if the global interest for your specific endeavor would have been nil otherwise. We've all lost at something in our lives that we wanted badly to win, and misery loves company.

That brings me to the picture above and the documentary that it advertises. The guy on the right, Steve Wiebe, is each of us. He's the guy who's sick... I mean sick... of coming up just short. Life is dealing him body blows, and he needs to win at something... anything. He needs to know that he's not a failure. People can tell you all day long that you aren't a failure, but nothing changes your outlook quite like experiencing a victory. And Steve's desperation attempt at claiming his ever-elusive victory suddenly centers around his obsession with setting the all-time high score on the classic video game Donkey Kong.

You can watch trailers for The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters on the sidebar, but I highly recommend that you watch the entire documentary. Director Seth Gordon entertains you with the mullet and swagger of archrival Billy Mitchell (a real-life Uncle Rico) while slowly immersing you into Steve's POV. I found it to be extremely cathartic even though I was more of a Pitfall or Qbert kind of guy.

Try your hand at these and other classic arcade games online. By the way, Twin Galaxies, the official website for tracking all-time classic arcade records (which is referenced extensively in the movie) is also an interesting view.

You Know What's Cool?

I gotta brother who just went to Israel. He called my Dad from the Garden of Gethsemane a couple of days ago. Over the 4th of July, our family's having a nuclear reunion, and we're going to get to share, play games, joke, be tender, and hear about his trip to Israel. It's going to be great. Does that sound cool or what?

I gotta friend who holds my feet to the fire, who listens and advises with wisdom, and who loves in action and deed. He's been a rock. I call him outtatheblue, and it's like we never missed a day. Kinda cool, huh?

I gotta sister who has an autistic child. Sometimes, she thinks she's the worst mother in the world to him and his brother. Reality is, though, that her children couldn't have a better parent... set of parents. And my sister and I are close. We share everything, laugh and cry together, and she's been a blessing and a dear friend to me in countless ways. I love her with a passion. Is that not cool?

I gotta a friend who has waited and waited on me, and he still waits. And he's never given up. Speaking of "given", he's given and given and still gives. I'd put this guy against anyone who ever spawned an idea. I'm simply amazed by him. Cool, eh?

I gotta set of parents that have been married forty-some-odd years, and who have been there through thick and then. Despite it all, they still love me, my brother, my sister, and each other. Is there a cooler gift they could give than that?

I gotta friend, who when I'm in his house, he'll pick up a guitar, and anyone there will just start singing and nobody worries about how they sound. They just sing. Same friend loves me like Jesus loves me. Wherever I go, if I rise, fall, run the race, stray from the trail, go desolate, he's there for me and I know that I know that I know will always be there. Cool doesn't even touch that, does it?

I gotta son, another son, and a daughter, and if you added up every sunrise and every sunset that have ever been and ever will be, they don't measure close to the beauty of those three. Could anything be cooler?

I gotta God with grace, and I wallow in it. He lived and died for me. Lived again, even. He soooooo loves the world... That breaks the Cool-o-meter, does it not?

Relationships are cool to me.

Anyone else got anything? You know what's cool?

Yawwwwn... Have I been sleeping long?

As the Crew Cuts and the Chords were wont to say in the '50's, "Life could be a dream, sh-boom".

And sometimes, I find myself sleepwalking through life, as if it were just that... a dream.

When suddenly, I wake up and realize that time and things, often important things like people, have passed me by.

It usually occurs when either circumstances surround me-- pressing in, threatening to strangle all of the joy out of living-- or at least it feels that way. Or when I get overly absorbed, obsessive even, about one aspect of my life whether its a leisure activity, a hobby, or an internal goal.

Then I just click off, check out, and go through the motions oblivious to the needs or feelings of those around me. This penchant was hammered home to me recently by the Adam Sandler masterpiece ironically or maybe not so ironically named, "Click".

I hopped into the theater expecting to baste in mindless, moronic slapstick and bathroom humor and instead was treated to a scathing, heart-wrenching indictment of my zone-out behavior. I suppose it is some consolation that I'm not alone, else why would they have made a movie about it, right?

But after my awakening comes like a cold splash of water, and I repent and resolve up and down not to repeat this pattern, it seems much more difficult in practical terms to prioritize and establish balance.

There are so many demands on our energy and time and just enough Type A over-achievers who act as though all can in fact be accomplished if you just try harder (the concept of trying harder is a rant for another post) that its much easier to just say, "Aww, screw it. I'll be over here taking another nap."

Anyway, I'm not sure I've got this thing licked yet, but for what its worth, I'm baaa-aaack. And my intention is to resurrect the Realm of Possibility with more of the witty, thought-provoking discussion and banter that many of you have come to expect.

So, if you're reading this, stop by occasionally. At least between your own naps.

Well Wishing

So much I do and don’t want to say here.

When Ken proposed this blog back in December, I thought it was the greatest idea. Both of us were excited about starting something new and – hopefully – different both for ourselves and here in the blogsphere. Our two or three main reasons for starting The Realm, though there were others, were to 1) have fun in an avenue of writing that would let us be creative and express thoughts that we had that wouldn’t go conveniently into our novels, 2) try to get the Pearce & Story name out to people who otherwise wouldn’t know us so that when our novels did see the light of day (and Dorkman’s coming – with more to follow – there’s no doubt about that), our market would be somewhat expanded, and 3) to honor Christ in all of our efforts. In retrospect, we probably receive mixed reviews in all three categories.

One thing about blogging, especially for one with an obsessive and addictive personality, is that it takes up gargantuan amounts of time and focus. Perspective is what decides whether that time and focus is beneficial or wasted – and here again… mixed reviews. From the start (believe it or not), huge chunks of the free time I had in everyday life were spent in thinking up posts for The Realm – in the morning, in the evening, throughout the day, and sometimes into the late night.

Like a hammer pounding a nail, it’s been brought to my attention in a plethora of ways that a lot of the time I have used dwelling on the blog has taken away from other important obligations I have sort of dismissed. There’s no question, I totally enjoy blogging, and the medium could dominate my life if I let it. But the matter of fact is, right now, too many important things have taken a backseat to something I selfishly enjoy. Starting the list: my quiet times, my novel and short story writing, my career/job, my children, and my wife, to name a few. When I weigh who and what I’ve hurt compared to anything or anyone I’ve helped, the scale is imbalanced in such a way that it’s very difficult, despite my longing to continue blogging, to see it as the right thing to do. Not that I’ll give it up forever, probably, but for now, it’s not worth the cost.

So… for the time being and any foreseeable future, I’m going to leave The Realm of Possibility in the able and capable hands of my great friend, brilliant writer, and diabolical genius, Ken Story. In the past, we’ve discussed adding other writers to the blog, and perhaps Ken will do that. We’ll no doubt, continue to give Dorkman updates. I’m still hoping that The Realm hits 500 posts and continues on and on. Believe me when I say, these last six months have been awesome. The Realm of Possibility has meant, means, and will continue to mean a great deal to me. So keep having fun here. No sad goodbyes in The Realm.

On a more personal note, I want to thank everyone who has ever come to The Realm, the lurkers and especially those that have commented. All of you guys I consider friends, and hypocritical that it is and hypocrite that I am, I encourage you all to keep blogging. I’ve received eternal benefits from the blogsphere, and I thank you all for the posts you have written. That said, I’m going incognito for a while in the blog universe to take a break and reestablish some of the more important relationships I have. I love you all, and once again: THANK YOU!!!

Update to: Coming Up Sevens

Update: The seven deadly sins (the quiz was in this post) named in Dante's Purgatorio in order going from closest to Hell to closest to Paradise are:

1) Pride
2) Envy
3) Wrath/Anger
4) Sloth
5) Avarice/Greed
6) Gluttony
7) Lust

Odd that lust would be the closest to Paradise... (hey, maybe I'm better off than I thought, most of my sinning is close to Paradise - uh, just kidding. unfortuately, I also sometimes fall victim to gluttony. and greed, too. i think my wife and parents can attest to the sloth. and the anger. if pressed, i'd say i'm not above envy. then, my archnemesis pride. yep, i got all lucky seven i gotta deal with).

Jesus said, "Go and sin no more." Paul says, "We're no longer slaves to sin." All of which means, I have a choice in this lifelong battle. Just looking at the horizon, I don't see much slackening. Wish me luck, and same to you. Vaya con Dios.

Legitimate Non-Biblical Question # 2

What is the right thing (and I realize it's probably subjective to each person) to do when you see either Mormons or Jehovah's Witnesses coming down your street to witness to you?

Am I right to even be asking this question at all? As a Christian, I feel I really don't have much to worry about in talking to people whose flags are flying under a different God than mine. At the same time, since both groups claim the word Christian when describing themselves -- or at least I've heard "Christian" as a description even if the headquarters of either group do not make that claim (I"m not sure whether they do or don't) -- that makes it a different conversation than discussing Christ (who is a figure in both religions) with say, an agnostic, atheist, Muslim, Hindu, etc.

I'll be honest. I cringe when I see them coming - it seems I'm usually mowing the lawn or working outside when they come. With the Jehovah's Witnesses, it usually isn't that big a deal - you accept a track from them and they walk on. With the Mormons, and usually it's younger kids (about 18-22 years old), who come on fire wanting to witness to you about their church, the prophets here in the States, God, etc., those boys'll talk to you. I've still got a Book of Mormon that a pair of suit-cladden bikers gave me.

To make the situation stickier, a lot of times I'll have either worked with or for Mormons (as I do now), been friends with them in the past, or at least have acquaintances that I respect that are Mormon. It's hard for me to just want to send them on their way, but inside, that's probably what I want to do.

Different Christians I know have different responses:

1) Some avoid them like the plague, won't accept anything from them, and shut the door on them if they solicit. Not so ironically, those same tactics are used on Christians as well, sometimes (even more ironically) by other Christians.

2) Some jump right in to argue, counter-witness, prove where they're wrong, and call for the witnessing kids/adults to repent there on site.

3) Some take the subtle witnessing tact. They invite them in, invite their elders to their house, trade scriptures, offer Christ's hope, generally with little success.

4) I've been a member at a church that has invited Mormons to the church under the guise of genuine discussions, and then has basically shown a filmstrip on how Mormonism is a cult and then went to # 2 on the list in calling for them to repent and convert. It was pretty ruthless, and despite what I believe, if the roles were reversed, I'd have been pretty pissed (sorry if that's offensive).

5) The easy way: Just throw out the word "Trinity" and watch them run.

Of course, I'm not denying that we have to talk to people, witness to the Gospel, and show them God's love, but I'm not sure a ten minute conversation while they're trying to solicit you is the best time for that. It seems like that's a time, more than likely, where heated arguments are going to take place and people just get more entrenched in their own beliefs. Then again, you may never see these people again, and if they're willing to talk religion, then why not proclaim the Christ of the Bible and the Gospel that leads to Salvation?

What do you guys think?

The Psychology of The Sandlot

Billy, a friend that Rich and I both knew, once explained to me a theory he had that everybody deep-down is one of the characters from the movie, The Sandlot. I hadn’t thought much about it, but I was intrigued by the idea. It was also interesting to me that despite the fact that there were very few female characters in the movie, Paula, Billy’s wife, readily concurred with his theory.

Assuming the theory has some merit, I’d like to hear which character you most identify with and why? And if you’ve never seen the movie, run, don’t walk and get yourself a copy, then weigh in.

BTW, don’t confuse this classic movie with the sucky, straight-to-video, sequel. Here are the primary characters in question and a short description of each.



Scotty Smalls – The outsider trying to fit in









Timmy Timmons – The know-it-all









Tommy Timmons – The tag-along









Kenny DeNunez – The second-fiddle









Hamilton “Ham” Porter – The wiseacre









Bertram Grover Weeks – The weird kid









Alan “Yeah-Yeah” McClennan – The “yes” man









Michael “Squints” Palledorous – The daredevil









Benjamin Franklin Rodriguez – The humble stud









Wendy Peppercorn – The object of desire







Mr. Mertle – The has-been










Bill – The never-was






Mom – The blissful ignorant









The Beast – The larger-than-life figure

Despite the fact that I exclaim, “You’re killin’ me, Smalls!” anytime someone in my family or elsewhere exasperates me, I’d have to say that I probably identify most with Scotty’s character myself. I’ve often found myself watching “the game” rather than playing in it, waiting to be invited in, and then feeling like a “fish out of water” once I’m there. But maybe, that is the plight of the writer. Observe others, and then live vicariously through your characters.

I haven’t seen Billy in quite a while. Somehow we just quit running into each other and that’s too bad, because I enjoyed being around him. (We also had animated, but respectful discussions over our respective top ten seasons of Saturday Night Live and how much one’s list was influenced by their age. Perhaps the subject of another post.) I guess you can tell that we’re both really, deep philosophical thinkers. So, Billy if you’re out there, stop by the Realm and give us your two cents once in a while.

The Sandlot
Movies

The Scarcest Resource

Playing off Ken's Alton Gansky post, I thought this comment by Jack Cavanaugh was very insightful and totally true of writing:

The swiftness with which time passes while writing can be scary at times too. When I'm writing, time flashes by, and with it go huge portions of my life. Which means the more I write, the more swiftly I'm racing to my death. The tradeoff, hopefully, is leaving behind a legacy of stories that will continue to live long after I'm gone. This isn't the kind of thing aspiring writers want to hear, but it comes with the territory.

Boy, no kidding. I'll be flowing in a chapter, or worse - struggling with one, and what had been ten o'clock p.m. has turned to three thirty a.m., and I'll have to be getting up for work in three and a half hours. Jack's dead to right on the trade-off as well, and that's hard to fathom for non-published writers (or even soon-to-be published writers like us). The desire to have a body of work at the end of a life to at least give the illusion that all the time spent was worth the opportunity costs... well, that's why writers write. It's also achieved by only a rare few.

If I got anything out of my BSEC degree at Auburn University, the notion of opportunity costs probably topped the list. All the other valuable, invaluable, or not-so-valuable things I could be doing with my time instead of what I'm choosing to do. For me, at least at this point where I don't have writing deadlines over my head - sometimes I do have job deadlines - the way I live with the trade is sacrificing sleep (and sometimes health), mostly, for writing. The time after work with my family, and especially with my children, is too valuable for me to simply disappear into my study to write. Sometimes sacrificing lunches or a couple hours on the weekend away from the family, I'll live with, but other than that, it's got to be sleep. Not to mention, my best writing hours tend to be between 9:00 p.m. to 1:00 a.m.

More important than just to my writing or to any one thing that anyone does is the point I'm trying to get to, which is: TIME is really our most precious resource. When you think about it, we have money, material items, health, faith, hope, and love, friends, etc., but without time, none of it means anything. In fact, when it comes right down to it, time is all that we have in this fallen world. And we live on borrowed time. I realize I'm not breaking any new ground here - people have figured this out long before any of it dawned on me, but I feel impelled to write it. Probably because I hijack so much of my own by wasting it. Maybe someone else can benefit from my folly.

Our choices and everything we do must fit into the time that we have. Whether we love, hate, give, provide, play, argue, debate, work, enjoy, mourn, hurt, pursue passions (good and bad), relax, travel, achieve, educate, ail -- whatever we do, it all has to be within the time we have. Best then, if we use what we have wisely. And since each person has a different make-up, I believe that using time wisely is going to be different for each person.

If we had started our blog early enough, one of Ken's news oddities of the week may have been about a kid in Korea who went to a gaming center and played for 52 straight hours, even through calls from his mom, until he up and died from a heart attack after the 52nd hour. I've got an X-Box at home, and I work with people with similar gaming devices. This guy was sort of a joke at our work. How could a person be so stupid? Well, truth to tell, I'm probably not really that different. I could easily see myself getting caught up - actually I do get caught up in these basically pointless games when playing them either with my kids or by myself. And the hours just tick-tock, tick-tock by. More hours when I didn't write, or read God's word/pray, love my wife, watch my kids grow before my eyes, feed anyone, do anything for anyone except myself. Now, sometimes I need a diversion to unwind. Games, sports (playing or watching), blogging, or just vegging come to mind as things I do for that necessity. But I've got to watch myself. And it doesn't have to be games. It can be sports, movies, running, walking, sleeping, working, working out, being at church, reading, writing, and uh, notably sinful things... I can get caught up in a ton of things where I'm really wasting time because they're not what I really should be doing.

What I have to do is, I've got to factor in what the Will of God is for me -- as part of the Church, as part of my church, as a husband and father, and as an individual, and (I'm going to give myself this one) as a writer. There is so, so, sooooo much that I fail at, and if I listed my sins, it would require another couple or dozen blog sites -- but I'm not sure I have a greater sin than the monumental waste of time that, for the most part, I've lived. Instead of worrying about all that though, I've got to focus on Christ and go from there. It's extremely (I really can't put it into words) difficult for me to do this. I love myself so much, and I really don't mind wasting time on myself. But Christ is King, not me.

So at least I've come to the realization. Like I said, since I'm not breaking any new ground, I figure most people have a pretty good concept of this for themselves. But then, sometimes it's therapeutic for me to let my thoughts bubble out into this blog. So I've done it again. I've turned what started out to be a thoughtful and thought-out post into a diary of my personal crap. Too bad for the reader, I guess. I do apologize, but I'm also posting, because I still haven't learned Ken's Poopy-Doopy lesson.

Wow. It's early morning, and I already feel like I need a beer.

Time