19 October 2008

A Letter To 3

I don’t know if you still follow this blog but since I really don’t know a better way to reach you, I’ll have to trust that this will get to you one way or another.

I just want you to know, that for my part, I forgive you all that happened.

I admit, I’m curious to know how that must sound to you. Of course, in many ways, my forgiveness is probably the least of those you might seek. But I really don’t know where you are these days, how you’re thinking, what you’re feeling. Even if this gesture seems pointless to you, or bass ackwards it’s something that seems important and it seems important that I say it now as opposed to waiting for some future ‘better-moment’ that may or may not ever come.

So for whatever it’s worth to you, which admittedly may be very little, I just want you to know that I hold nothing against you and truly wish you the best.

Grace and Peace my brother.

18 October 2008

Great. Now we have Chain blog posts...

Tag Rules:
  1. Post the rules on your blog
  2. Write 6 random things about yourself
  3. Tag 6 people at the end of your post
  4. If you are tagged, just do it, and pass the tag along!

Ichi: I’m not sure, but I think this is the cow story I’ve been asked to recount: Once when I was driving toward Sherwood it was this unbelievably awesome day and Mt. Hood was just as lovely as could be so I pulled over across from Sleigh bells to take in the view. In the field next to me was this big ol’ Holstein milk cow and she comes running over to me as if something is really important. Now only ten or so feet from my face she’s staring at me, and now I’m staring back wondering why this cow has taken such intense interest in me. When eye contact is firmly established, she tosses her head back over her shoulder as if to say ‘Come on in here. I want to show you something.’ It was a perfect cow imitation of a well known human gesture...and then she did it again, and then a third time. It was so surreal and I just there wondering what was going on here. I remember a story somewhere about a guy who thought the bears had beckoned him into their enclosure at the zoo and I think the guy was mauled. Luckily the voices in my head told me the cow was in no way beckoning me into her enclosure, but rather my inner child. But since he was in time-out in the corner, Bessie was SOL.

Ni: Once I was spending the night at KK’s house (I was maybe 14) and we had been up late playing games or something. After dozing off at some point I woke way into the night to realize that we had left the lamp on in the front room. So I groggily got up and shambled up the hallway to turn it off. As I was just there at the lamp it turned off by itself. Keith’s house was haunted, we all knew that, but I was too dang sleepy to be scared, so I said ‘thanks’ and shambled back to bed.

San: I wonder sometimes what happened to Tana Cole. There was a season where her and I were pretty close friends and it was remarkable how much she could NOT cook...anything. No, it was worse than that: she was literally cursed in the kitchen. I remember watching an ‘unbreakable’ bottle of ketchup shatter at her touch and splatter the whole galley with tomato goo. She was really cool, but I guess once she became a cheerleader I felt pretty intimidated since I was a drama geek and sort of faded out. I hope life has been good to her.

Shi: Lisa and Beth can attest to this. Once I was practicing spinning, flying kick things for my red belt training and I was so cool I kicked my own ass. It was AWESOME.

Go: In time, I hope to have the chance to work with Michael the Archangel. I don’t really know what that might look like, (probably not John Travolta, but then again, what do I know) but really. Going on a ride-along with that creature would be really cool.

Roq: When Odin was in the hospital and I wondered if he was going to die each hour after another, I tried to read the gospels to him as much as I could. I wasn’t really trying to comfort myself, I was hoping that somehow they would help him, maybe just mentioning Jesus’ name over and over, even as read from a work out Gideon pocket Bible from my sea bag. I don’t really know what I was doing, but it seemed important. And I tried to teach him songs, In Christ Alone and Before The Throne of God Above in particular, he seemed to like those. I completely understand what it’s like to want to die. To want the unimaginable fear and pain to just stop for a moment. The helplessness, the despair, I can only pray that I’ll never have to walk that valley again.
And now, ironically, Odin is the most vivid, palpable, undeniable argument for life that I can imagine. Tonight as I was putting him to bed he (for the first time) wrapped his arms around my neck, laid his head on my shoulder and asked me to sing to him in the dark.
Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.