Giving Up

It is not a command.

We have incredibly-few of these, and it does not make mention.

Directly, it is not of scripture, and is not a necessity of the Christian life.

Indirectly, however, it is a reflection and consideration of the principles of the life, essence, and reality of Jesus the Christ. 

And inasmuch, as we mimic Him, follow after Him, we do well.

In the past, I have given away 

Sweet Tea

then Iced Tea

then all liquids sans Water...

Internet

Reading.

Last year, as one who spends 2-4 hours a day driving, the most challenging of all, it was all sounds in the car.

Approaching Lent, I am thoroughly uninspired to give up the things of this world. Maggie, a voice of God, encouraged me to consider 'giving up' in a different light. 

Jesus,

in my vainglory attempt to honor you, 

to connect with you,

to hope to connect with you,

I spend Lent 2015

giving away

the parts of my life

that overcrowd my life.

This is almost completely CH2M-centric.

I take on

I am given

I am dumped on.

My shoulders are fully laden, my back is stooped. 

And I still go on. 

I pray for strength and wisdom and I still go on. 

In this Lent,

rather than put away some physical addiction,

stressing my body and then mind with the hopes that the spirit is expanded,

In this Lent,

I give away my superhero life, 

let go of succeeding, hyper-exerting, fixing, bailing out, being the man.

I will be challenged, as I leave holes in my life,

I hope to trust God to fill them, to be God,

to correct,

complete,

flourish

while I shrink away.  

The Bowling Christmas Experiment

Christmas is aimed to be the most benevolently wonderful moment of the year, the point in time where God fully reached out to His creation to bring us into the fold.

I have been a Christian my entire adult life, but have never quite captured this sweet essence of Christmas; rather, I most honestly associate December with obligatory obligations, deadline stress, busy to the point of feeling unhealthy, eating to the point of being unhealthy, and the yoke of how.I’m.supposed.to.feel.

Maggie and I endeavor to develop a simple and pure relationship between our nuclear family, Christmas, and Jesus, the latter being the most difficult portion to include in the experience. It is neither easy nor fully implemented. At a minimum, I hope that our children more naturally associate this month with Jesus than I do.

I am away from home this Christmas (to be immortalized in my soon to be released Country song). The typical challenges of being away are magnified this week. For Maggie and me, this is our most service-oriented Christmas yet:

she where she is, and

I where I am.

I hope that our experiences help us embed the soul of Christmas in our reality.

I hope that my absence from home and my presence here will help deepen my shallow appreciation for this sacramental celebration.

Faithful

Tonight, 13 years ago, in another world, in another life, Maggie and I married.
Maggie, you have remained so very faithful to me. When it was easy and difficult, you have stayed committed and supportive to me in every way. When life, work and fatherhood stretched and stressed me to my limits, I never had to worry (you never gave me reason to worry) of our relationship, of your love for me, of your patience with my weaknesses.
You complete me, and I cannot imagine, do not want to imagine, this journey without you, without the comfort of knowing that you are there with me and for me.

What did I do last night?

I have learned from my better half that the best time to weigh yourself is first thing in the morning. Apparently she read that in Cosmo, or maybe it is feminine wisdom passed from generation to generation. In a fit of curiosity, I tested this wife's tale.
Last night, just before bed, I pulled out the scale and stepped on: 179.1 lbs. This morning, immediately upon waking up, I step on again: 175.1.
What exactly was I doing last night to lose 4 pounds? If any of you were there, or have any information that may lead to the discover of said activity, I would appreciate your insight.

Glass Jaw

Tonight I had the occasion amidst my weekly soccer match of going after a loose ball in front of the goal, whereby I met the other team's striker, my keeper, and my keeper's elbow. Me the elbow were intimately acquainted, and I awoke inside the penalty box 5-10 seconds later. 

I left the field of my own accord and watched the remainder of the game. Two concerns evolved in my mind, one of greater weight than the other. First, I couldn't close my mouth. Second, I would have to share said reality with my wife (I'll let you decide which of the concerns concerned me the most).

An hour of internet [sic] research has encouraged me to join the Waitansee Tribe in the hopes that things are better tomorrow. And seeing as though Maggie is table dancing in Vegas with her girlfriends for the weekend, I'm going to delay the inevitable. 

The bottom of the lists

An unexpected email yesterday from the Thomas Eye Group, a rather large outfit here in Atlanta. Maggie had nominated me as one worthy of free LASIK surgery, writing a short essay of my general contributions to life (taking her cue from the political establishment, the writing exaggerates the reality). Worthy or not, it is a generous gesture. The trick, for myself and the two other finalists, was to convince the Facebook world to 'like' one of us the most.

Somehow I am expected to branch out and ask friends, Romans, countrymen to do the great favor of "liking" me, crossing all sorts of indeterminate lines in my life. But if Maggie has gone out on this limb to honor me, and Thomas Eye has taken a step of faith that this gift of theirs will gain some sort of advertisement medium, I need to swallow my introverted pride and get bawdy.

In a moment of appropriate irony, LASIK is something I would love to have, but will never likely put on the top of the list of financial expenditures ("Sorry, kids. No Disney this year. Dad doesn't like his glasses."). I am now being asked to win a LASIK contest to move this dream-ticket to the top of the heap, as long as I engage in self-promotion, distinctly at the bottom of my activity-list.

     "Uhmmm, excuse me, but would you mind clicking this link and 'liking' me?" - too pitiful.

     "My wife really wants you to..." - don't hide behind Maggie; be a man.

     "This is SO CRAZY! I cannot believe that this once in a lifetime opportunity has landed on my lap. I'm just hoping you want to join me in this." - too bobble-headed.

Time to start begging...

Guilty until proven Innocent

I sat next to a very nice and distinctly talkative lady on the flight down here. She was fulfilling her daily verbiage quota, and I was doing my best to be a gentleman. A Belizian expat returning home to visit family, she knew everyone in this small country, and dropped names and titles beyond my memory capacity.
"If you ever need anything, have any problems getting something done, you just give me a call and I will call my (insert name) , who is (insert title), and we'll get it cleared up." Then she gave me her card, which I directly put in my pocket.
I am now returning home; as I pack I find the card, a very dangerous card, which yields a corona of guilt around all who carry it, regardless of their intent. Scripture teaches that what comes out of a person determines their guilt, not what they carry with them. I do believe this card is an implied exception: "Julia Torres, Divorce Specialist"

Choosing between having a potential helper in our work here and having my wife find the card, I do what we learned in basic training: tore it into little pieces and sent it to separate trash bins in the four corners of the airport.

Bowling 2011 Roadtrip – Day 6: South Dakota, You Are Welcome

In typical Bowling-fashion, we bypassed the Rapid City metropolis with its two modern hotels for Hot Springs, town of 891 people on the far end of Mt Rushmore. We also decided a Teepee would be an adventure within an adventure. Allen Guest Ranch was happy to oblige.
It is safe to say that Allen’s website was a bit misleading. Clocked at 0.43 miles from the cinder-block bathhouse (measured via the car odometer by my wife), the teepees where not exactly what one would call ‘clean’, ‘not-musty’ or ‘infestation-free’. I spent the first 20 minutes grabbing and tossing grand-daddy long-legs from the inner walls; an activity repeated every two hours throughout the night.
And since we decided to camp in a tube with a hole in the roof and another on its side, it rained 1.5” as soon as we unpacked and began to set up. I suppose if we had washed our car, a monsoon would have happened upon us. For a high desert town that receives 14” of rain per year, I do believe we deserve your thanks.

where to go? where to go?

It would seem to the uninitiated that the emergence of Kayak.com, Expedia.com, Priceline.com, Cheapoair.com Travelocity.com (and our perennial voice of guidance, Clark Howard) would provide a tangible benefit to the recipient of such seemingly intensive competition. Such belief is only accepted by those untested in the fine art of internet competition shopping.

• Check here
• Check there
• Check under here
• Check around there
• Look at this site
• Switch the dates and try again
• Maybe if I wait a day and see
• But what if I don't purchase now

It is a miserable experience for the likes of me, and I regret my participation in such.

Maggie recounts my previous journeys and the utter waste of time spent working the system in my travels to Thailand and China, and our purchases of the Van and the TV. In every other aspect of my retail experience, I play a casual 'cannot be bothered over a few dollars" gentleman. But in the world of comparative internet purchasing, I am an addict, sitting over the slots hoping that the next pull will be the Big One.

What a hearty waste.

a Walkabout

It can readily be said that 2008 proved to be my most trying of 32 years. I would like to hope that I cleaved to Jesus in this time, and I believe there is evidence before me that I did. However, difficult things are difficult, even with God Almighty.
The times of tumults have weighed on me, one who is typically rather stalwart. And it has been recognized (and pointed out to me) that my lack of 'enjoyment' has finally effected my sense of 'joy'.
My discerning and charitable wife has encouraged a Walkabout, and I just might take her up on it. She will be taking the kids to her mother's in two weeks, and has warned me of the wrath that will follow my typical reaction to her absence, an overloading of work.
"Go somewhere. Get some time alone. Breathe a bit. And come home with either some answers or some joy or, preferably, both."
Options are weighing themselves before me:

• Outward Bound or NOLS course.. none offered the right dates, rather expensive, and I'll be forced to talk to others.
• Seattle and the surrounding areas, bumming a couch of my best friend Weeder... but the traditional excitement of seeing him and his wife and upcoming child (I won't probably see the child) is replaced by apprehension at being with others. I am feeling the need for loneliness.
• Westward... over the Mississippi I am called.
• Joshua Tree, Southern California, climbing and hiking and camping in the desert in the likes of Christopher McCandless.
• Skiing somewhere? I would like to try my hand at Cross Country.
• THE Grand Canyon is always suggested, but only by those who don't realize how incredibly cold it is there this time of year, without the benefit of campfires or snow-based activities.
• Honduras
• Equator
• Costa Rica (Maggie's pick of the three, as it feels less dangerous to her)

I have little time to decide, and must as well decide whether to pursue this dream or let it lie.