Tagged: hope
A Hike’s End
The woods are
Always darkest first, I remember.
It’s just the two of us.
He says we need to hurry because
It’ll be too dark to see
Soon.
Each step directly in front of the last,
The trail’s raised edges keep my vanishing course sure.
Darkness encroaching, he says to go faster.
Nearly running,
I am struck by terror.
It is dark,
We’re separated from the group,
We are alone.
He is big,
I am small.
Could I out run him?
The plants are coming faster now,
Like my heartbeats, thoughts,
And him.
I want to sprint,
But can’t.
Campfire voices announce the end.
I stop.
He approaches.
I look into his eyes.
He says he’d rather not
Be out so late next time.
Men
An odd group, certainly. The worst men make ritual disembowelment seem like the only sensible thing to do, while the best men…well the best men inspire us to become better men.
Like hitch hikers just dropped at a truck stop, we look around and evaluate the passing scene. Too often we are surrounded by mediocre men.
As constant evaluators, we sometimes forget to report our findings. This is undesirable and unproductive. We can forge a better life through regular highlighting of qualities the best men put into practice.
To begin, they are flawed. More to the point, they recognize they are flawed, and they do not hide it.
Next, they possess a humility that my own awesomeness seems unlikely to ever achieve.
They are genuine, or perhaps authentic works better. You cannot catch them off guard. They are who they are, no apologies, and who they are is worth noting.
They are well-read. Life has seasons, of that there is no doubt. But these men and television divorced a long time ago.
Lastly, for today, they are ready and willing to help, if we’ll only just ask. By help, we mean nothing more than them choosing to spend their limited time on us.
Let us not forget, then, that even great men need encouragement. Let us not forget that these men still exist in this world, feel its pressures, and are pulled daily by the temptation to give up. Let us not forget to say thank you when their life enhances ours.
David: Thank you.
Another Vote For Living In The Moment
“But!” he said, finger in the air, ready to make a point, “If Jesus and his message were so important, and God knew we’d invent video cameras eventually, why did God send him in a time period before technology could capture his life? Heck, not only did he never write anything himself, he probably couldn’t write. Isn’t that a strike against the whole thing?” he said, not wanting to offend him, but seriously wanting to discuss the issue. “I mean, all of this could be settled by a single video of him, right?”
“You know, I thought things like that for a long time myself. I would even go further than you just did and point out that precisely because there is no recording, the story’s fantastic nature was able to gain traction. I really wanted to believe that Jesus was followed by people and gained notoriety because the people of that time were ignorant and looking for answers etc., etc.,” the man replied. “But then a thought hit me–what if the timing of his life contained a truth in itself? What if God purposefully sent Jesus to reveal the gospel at a time before wide-spread literacy, much less technology?
“Starting there, I found something striking. If the general population Jesus lived among was illiterate and didn’t have TV, movies, or screens upon screens that prevented actual relationship from occurring, surely they had a more grounded existence. Whether they did or not, Jesus would have had to actually meet and greet people. Without sound amplification, his audiences would have been smaller. Without DVR, his speech would have had to be simple and clear. Without YouTube’s ‘I’ll record myself once and then put it out there for the world to see’, he would have been required to live with perfect integrity daily.
“For all technology’s benefit, we are clearly not reaching our potential as a group.
“Who would argue that talking on the phone is the same as in person? Who would rather skype than eat a meal together? And that isn’t even opening the door to the world of nothingness that is tweeting and texting.
“So, that’s what I tell myself to explain why God sent Jesus before things that would have helped ‘prove’ his divinity. Maybe a video would have helped with the miracles, but I think a lot of his message would have been lost in the process. As I understand this world and Jesus’ message to it, he was a man who wouldn’t want anything to come between him and us–including time and space.”
Why I Hate Blogging
“No, ‘hate’ is not too strong,” he said, raising his voice. “I think it is perfectly descriptive. I. Hate. Blogging.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause it gives me hope,” he lamented. “I hate that I sit there, typing away on those loud keys, pouring out myself in words, and afterward I discover a few other humans ‘like’ or ‘follow’ the blog.”
“Not makin’ sense friend.”
“Okay, let me put it this way,” he continued laboriously. “I feel alone in the world sometimes. You know, the whole ‘misunderstood’ crap people talk about? Yeah, that’s how I feel sometimes-”
“We all do, dude.”
“-Right. But there is a difference. I can write. I can communicate myself to others. I can waive a flag letting people know ‘I’m alive. If you are, too, let me know.’ Not everyone can do that. So I started writing. I started putting myself out there–no holding back. I even wrote a post which taught some of my senior-citizen followers a new curse-word, which I have since made private because it was so shameful.”
“The ol’ ‘fucktard’. I remember that one.”
“Yeah. Anyhow, every once in a while people respond favorably. I was shocked that people responded at all. So, you can imagine how it feels when people respond favorably. More than favorably, sometimes people will comment in a way that shows they got it. And in getting it they get me.”
“I see, Pete. I see. You hate blogging because it gives evidence that there are people out there who get you. But, you think this doesn’t really count, because you only know this via the computer. And this digital evidence, as it were, downgrades it to little more than hope.”
“Exactly. See, that’s why I’m telling you this. You get me. I get you. But I don’t feel like there’s many others out there. And so this blog, then, is little more than the force that propels the emotional pendulum which swings from ‘Hey, life’s great. It’s filled with people who live on this planet’ to ‘how is this world even self-sustaining?'”
“Well, as you know, I don’t know what to tell you. Cheer up. I like reading your stuff. It makes me laugh.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Thanks.”
Captain’s Log 