Life Begins At 40

Tale of Two Economic Systems

2010-03-14T20:05:00.000-07:00

Tale of two systems - and the mice who endure their differences and simularities.

Note: Socialism (ultimately communism) is marked by a level of total government control. Capitalism is 'monitored' by the government from Teddy R. to the level it is today (a mixture where government is now part of business...increasing the corruption it set out to fix in the post-industrial period)

Socialism: The mice are zombie-like. They show up to feeding time on-time, wait in line with resignation.
There is a sense of the promised freedom - free from having to fight for your own provision and protection.
There is an ever-present sense of fear....with a lot of corruption and malevolent results.People are born into the system - Ukrainians, Chinese, etc.

Capitalism: The mice are whore-like. They scurry about collecting as much food from the pile that is always there. Often seen cutting in line if and when one forms.
There is a sense of promised freedom - free from depending on others for your provision and protection.
There is an ever-present sense of fear....with a lot of corruption and malevolent results.People are born into the system - Americans, England, etc.

Both systems are forms of institutionalized slavery. So what is a sytem that can provide real (actual) freedom (which is always the promise)? The answer has always been the same in terms of government - a benevolent dictatorship (monarchy).

That hope is extended in the person of Jesus...and the slave gets to choose a better master.

No one is born free. Some are born again into a better slavery.

Living honsetly without hope

2010-02-12T20:18:00.000-08:00

Got a call at work today expecting additional tasks for my sons 7th birthday party. But instead...I was told that our neighbor and friend killed herself the night before. Alone in her big house. I know some of her troubles and her responses to these. But I did not know of course the impact they were making on her currently. She has lived a world of crap...some done to her...some her own doing. So much like everyone except she was special in her at times full commitment to her beliefs and to herself. But she could never hold on long, longer than others, but her deeply caring heart and intellect would come out and do its thing...helping others.

When this happens you see clearly all the good that was there in that life. The utter waste of the suicidal event. Many say the ultimate selfish act. But I am very aquainted with this act. I use to pick up bodies after jumping off the golden gate bridge...a college girl that didn't want to go to the college her parents were sending her to. I worked at a fire department in Alaska...young member killed himself over a girl who left him. My chief...after a newborn daughter came into his life. My father lost his father when he was 1 years old to this...I lost him to alcholism and abandoment when I was 1 years old.

Other than those chemically induced suicides...who take medicine to help their depression..do we understand. All the others...somewhere and somehow...find their breaking point. Where they stand alone at the precepice and search for the courage not to jump, a reason to live...and simply find nothing, nothing in time. And then they are gone forever. Only then do the people in their world, if they are blessed to have had people in their world, really take stock in the value of what they lost.

There is nothing to be redeemed from this experience because nothing is fully understood. It truly is the essence of sadness, violence, and the reality of our broken world. A person somehow touched the world that is so closely, so alone, and found that there is no hope. What they need merely does not exist...so all is hopeless. The options are clearly a pain that is unbearable or the only avenue to peace possible.

I hate knowing this. Faith in Christ and his finished work and the external hope extended that says wait...but wait not alone, but with me. There is nothing else possible than this. And the Bible says God so love the world he gave his only begotten son...he so loved the world? That in itself is so remarkable. I knew this woman and I watch the loss in her husband and sons eyes. It is impossible. Wait...but wait with me. How, in this hellhole, do we (who do not ignore the reality of the world and broken hearts of so many) move from wait...to wait with me?

I don't know.....which is salt to the wound. The Apostle Paul mentioned we should let go of the past (always...all the time...unless remembering points of Gods faithfulness). And that we should train to ponder just good things...if you are in a prison yard and beat up daily...look to the dandelion growing between the cracks of broken concrete. And to not forsake friends of faith. This is a practical survival guide...he knew well the powers against us.

Jesus today seems so trite and impotent to people, understandably. But faith, in someone knowable spiritually and real, is the only guide to get us home safely. He can make the difference. And if that is not true...then I agree, all is vanity and their is only one other exit door to pain and suffering here in this broken world. But I think about my friend, who maybe never found hope to her delima, and I would prefer that she had tried to live more dishonestlylike the rest of us often do, faking it...because then at least she would be around.

Excited

2009-09-25T20:52:00.000-07:00

I am currently planning out plot and research for a great story. It is suspense and I hope deep in character. It will include several counter-Christian Culture ideas....but Biblical ideas (so far...to my thinking). To be necessarily cryptic at this time - this story is international in scope and involves an intense fight for a child against forces that completely out-match the protagonist. But as with my last two writings God will show Himself in control...a lesson of faith for them. Likely enemies turn to be advocates...likely advocates will turn against them. Cultures will clash...but essential human understanding, the better parts, attract to one another in this fight. It will still not be enough...but Gods presence, power, purpose, and love will carry the story to conclusion.

College

2009-09-03T20:48:00.000-07:00

My first college experience was when visiting my sister in Boston for two weeks. I was a 21 year old fireman on an island in Alaska at the time. She took me along to her first day in a class at Harvard. I think the teacher's name was Brooks and he had written 35 books all about Chaucer. The class was just about...Chaucer. He asked everyone to say their name and...something. I said my name and that i was just visiting. There was laughter and he said something. He then began to speak in the 'Old English' and was completely unintelligable but impressive. Then he read a text in the Kings English that was understandable. Afterward, he asked the classwhat the piece was about. There were so many answers from the class and so many words. I secretly thought it was about Chaucer making fun of spring-time romance...I thought back to the musical Camalot and the characters 'Going Maying' (my parents were considerably older than me so I knew such things). In the end I alone was correct compared to the verbal classmates.

I was very surprized by this having assumed that the college people were superior to me. I thought more about their responses and pondered that they were more interested in being eloquent than in being right. I remember it being very confusing.

Eventually I went to college in Charlotte and worked at a 3 star restaurant as a dishwasher. I made exactly the amount of money I needed and my mind was free to drift (lazy). But I enjoyed it and my co-worker Osman from Sudan - we worked on his English nightly. Soon I learned that some women had a problem with a 'dishwasher'. I learned I was without status. Frankly, that confused me for years...it still does to some level.

For the rest of college (in Wilmington) I was set on doing what I wanted and reading what different courses may have inspired...sometimes the required text. To this day, and even after additional graduate work later on, I cannot not pull together an academic paper to save my life. But I took the ideas very seriously. I think now that by not losing my curiosity, by not knowing ever why I was even there, by making enough C's to still manage to receive my G.I. Bill...I actually got an education. I was too old after the military to get the College Experience...but somehow I learned many things that stick with me...and delt with ideas that were foundational to understanding my country and my world.

I am old enough now to know that I am not smart enough to have pulled that off....it came off largely to a personality problem of being obstinate. It came about from my own limitations and having no thought about my future.

Can you get an education, you know, a real solid education...by 'going by the numbers?' Or is education instead something more personal...and less about a corporate view of 'excellence.' Even communication...is a mere artful trade.

From Ukraine with...a Kind of Love

2009-07-05T07:51:00.000-07:00

Well I am still trying to collect my thoughts about this place. I have been here nearly 50 days now...50 tomorrow I think. I brought up the brooms earlier because they have short handles here. I see many women, even elderly women, bending down to sweep the steps and sidewalks with these brooms. The one in my apartment is for the floor. Now - they could have handles...but that would relieve suffering. Ukraine loves suffering. In a way, despensation of suffering is a kind of way for them express love...in a way. And they are a kind and hospitable people...you repeat the Russian expression for 'Thank you' a hundred times a day.

Also, this place is Russia. The landscape, homes, buildings, language - all deeply Russian. At least for the Eastern half of the country. That orange revolution confuses many here...they are not angry with the Soviet history - they were soviets. They fought and worked in the same way as Moscow..they have been connected by Sea, farming and industry with Russia for ever...in fact, they were the original Russia or 'RUS' in around like the year 700.

Every new day hints at a pending day as bad or worse. This is not a hopeful place...they like to dash mine often so much that I am always looking for the boot to drop. I may soon leave here...but I reserve some gloom - just in case.

I have ridden in a taxi now 7,000 times...or close to that I think. I have met all sorts...good and responsible men and clinically insane men. I will not miss that anxiety. But I will always be amazed that I have never wrecked and only saw one on a hiway. Every 5 minutes is a near miss of a wreck or running a person over. But never happens...like that drizzle in Kodiak Alask that is constant for months...but it never really rains. Not a real rain.

Berdyansk has taxes...but there is no evidence of it. Every road is strip that looks like its been bombed..as if every street was some vital supply line in some past war. The power is on sometimes, off sometimes. Internet is connected from houst to house with military 232 cable and amazingly good considering.

I'll be taking a confused and reluctant to trust daughter tomorrow from her little world of 10 years. It is almost purely physical venture now in my mind...remove her from here...take her to there. I will try to work a little tomight...but hard to keep my mind on anything but the morning...and that other boot to drop and shatter all hope.

So in sum - all is suffering and folks here see it all as 'life.' It is my hope they see more and more that suffering is not always necessary..and not always productive. Sometimes it destroys character rather than build it.

Fathers Day in Ukraine

2009-06-21T11:23:00.000-07:00

I am here in Ukraine - missing my children but enjoying time with my soon-to-be daughter here. For Fathers day my kids got together to write this poem for me. I am told that my oldest daughter said they decided to "just put dad on paper." God is WAY to good to me...

Father's Day Poem
by the Carwiles and Graham kids
For Mark/Dad:

Ice cream melts on a hot day, (not Haiku)
We miss you dad, Happy Father's Day,

Matt loves his dad and misses him,
He'll watch TV and eat CheezIts (TM) with him,

Daddy's funny, fun, and never Crabby,
He'll sing the SpongeBob song with Abby,

Caitlin, tape the show and get my Blackberry,
Glenn Beck needs my feedback--though contrary,

We can't wait for you to come home,
Please bring Kristina, welcome dom,

Baby boy will be here too,
Soon we'll find a name for you,

It's your "Day", we write you poetry,
Now we're stuck-what rhymes with poetry?

Happy Father's Day!!

A New Story...possible start to draft

2009-06-18T00:35:00.000-07:00

The government arbitrarily allowed for street-lights this night. Some were working and showed fuel-filled puddles throughout the parking lot below. I stared through the third floor dingy soviet window pane, cutting through the steady rain, and peering down to the apartment courtyard where the prostitutes were kicking the soccer ball around with the drug dealers. Cold wet passed through the cheap dirty glass and breathed chills across my face, then to my bones. The word expedient hovered over my thoughts as I sat waiting. Before coming to Ukraine I always assumed all states of existence were some how better intended or at least knew a better day. But sometimes and in some places, this place, everyone just does what can be done. The powers did what they could to herd and rape. Those herded, survived. Expectation was just an annoying rumour and the soot-mixed evening rains dampened any hopes of escape.

I finally saw my guy pull onto the south side of the make-shift soccer field. It had to be him because it was a new black Mercedes Benz, the kind that appeared in this region mostly at dusk. Or maybe midnight blue, not sure, he was so late and it would be dark when I reached the first floor. I watched him step out of the car. He dropped and stamped his cigarette, probably French. The other criminals scattered at his gesture, a kind of warning shot. It had to be Sasha.The stained and broken cement steps seemed to moved too fast under my feet as I descended. I was committed to this now and with my life. It could be suicide to get this deep but I ran out of options back in Kiev. I needed to get inside the web undetected. Either this guy would turn things for me or the girl would end up in some apartment like this or worse.

"Sasha?"
"Da."
"Will you help?" I asked. I was practised at that question to the point of exhaustion.
"I’m here. Your Russian sucks. I know English." He lit another cigarette.
"Okay. You know the story? Any questions?"
"It stopped raining; maybe it is a sign, eh?"
I was quiet and felt the idiot look spreading across my face. Small talk is hard enough when you aren’t desperate but these guys added pain by mixing in existential junk. Their questions seemed to hold more questions.
"Look, Sasha. This is not my thing and you scare the hell out of me. This is not my world, not even my country. Was the amount alright? I mean I need to know. It really is all I have and I borrowed half of it."
Sasha took a short walk away from me. I was left wondering if this would be the end of the whole crazy venture. Or maybe it was just a tactic of his. Then like some schoolboy on a first date I searched my every word and every variable of impression they could create. He walked back more quickly than he left.
"I think you keep your money. I looked into you, checked out the time-line you sent me. You have been watched for two weeks. We will transact trust.
"What?"
"I came up, as you people say, in that orphanage. I will trust you with this so you can trust me. I planned to kill four people for 10 years because of what they did to my sister. I never did it and I didn’t know why. It wasn’t enough somehow. This is better. Do you understand?"
"I’m sorry."
"You want this girl. I want her for you…for me. It never was those people, you know. They, are no different than me," he laughed sadly, "It’s the system. I have come to this. Many more will go to hell with me this way. Also, the girl is now being watched, she’s safe."
"What? What do I do?"
"They watch you in the daylight. Buy the nine o’clock bus to Tokmak. You will get on the bus and a friend will have you sit with her. Their car will have an accident." He was gone.

After Sasha drove away I noticed the others didn't come back out. They were always there at this hour in the shadows but couldn't hide their cigarettes. I finally just got street-credit and had to leave in the morning. I returned to the my flat and slept soundly for the first time in months, moving my knife from under my pillow and to the nightstand. Just before falling off I realized he was probably certain he told me something, something to trust. Instead, again I had no idea what he was talking about.

In Ukraine

2009-06-12T12:43:00.000-07:00

Well...I am in Ukraine right now...again. The trip is interesting so far...So much accomplished and so much left to do. Learning some things actually and hope to write about it soon.

TIME FLIES

2009-04-19T20:29:00.001-07:00

Break from editing -

I google mapped down the old neighborhood in Portland Oregon... going back in time to 1974.

Wow. Things change but then they don't. The 'boys club' seems abandoned. I played pool there with a 100 other fatherless guys when I was just 6 and 7. Wow - that is Matt's age! I liked the guy who ran the place. He treated me well, took time to talk to me. I think now he probably knew I wasn't comfortable being the only white kid. I had not met my dad yet but he seemed like what a dad was I guess. I never met my dad until he came for me a few years later. Funny thing, my dad turned out to be a corporate exec. Think these years were just the result of some marital revenge on his part. I bounced to several foster homes at times, but they were all in the neighborhood.

The business buildings look exactly the same - just closed now. And the mailbox is gone. The 'store' was on the corner there. I use to go down to get cigarettes for my 12 year old sister...tell them it was for my mom and to put it on charge. We had a huge charge the guy kept in an index box. He gave me grief every time...then gave me whatever I was sent for. I thought all milk was 'powdered' :-)

Here is a photo of my street - seems they renamed it 'Rosa Parks Way.' I got my second dog from the house in the foreground - the people moved one day and just left the dog. I named her Blackbeard.

Looks like they replanted 'street trees.' The city came in to beatify the neighborhood when I was a kid. My brother and his 'friends' bought some machetes at a flea market and literally chopped down the city's first attempt.

The tall house was abandoned the whole time I lived there, like 4 years. The kid across the street taught me how to use matches when I was 5 years old. That same day we ran around lighting little fires and putting them out. One kind of got away from us under the back porch of this house. So we worked hard to stamp it out...with a large wood door laying in the back yard...and other wooden boards we found. I finally got an idea...I ran to the house and passed my mom while I carried a party punch bowl full of water.

"What are you doing?"

"Noth'n."

The fire department came and saved the house...but not the back part. The fireman said, "the other boy says he didn't do anything."

I said nothing. But remember processing that.

I told them I set the fire. He talked to me about never doing that again and stuff like that.

Funny - fire has been serious stuff with me. I never trust its really out. I ended up driving fire trucks later in life.

Doctrine of Election

2009-02-19T19:39:00.000-08:00

I want to see thousands of these photos. How to accomplish this? It seems so the least of ministries to so many. Getting the 'word' out seems to be the primary 'commission'. Most of these little guys and gals barely escaped abortion...they are the residual, flukes of their societal context. Yeah, hundreds of thousands of them in the one country if you include those living on the streets.

One morning, when I was 12, I left the Fairmont hoity-toity hotel in New Orleans. I walked and walked. I walked into a pretty bad area of town. I slowly passed a kid my age...an old coat draped on him like a blanket. Curled against a door to an abandoned building. He was asleep. I stopped, don't know why. I remembered the night before I had ordered a cheeseburger from room service. They came to my room and cooked it in front of me...in the room.

The pain is everywhere. The poor are always with us. What can you do? But we still find ways to market them...talk of a village gets miles for one power hungry woman. Throwing money at them as a former community organizer gets another one the Presidency. And yet...there they always are. The answer? I hear another power happy woman in the congress say...make less of them and it will reduce the burden. Really, she doesn't appear to me to be burdened.

This little guy above is Ukrainian. Hes on his way to a family, a hope and a future. I don't know all the motivations for people to step out and pull one of these little guys in. But I can't stop seeing the Gospel in this photo. He does not really know the hell he is escaping...or the incredible future he is stepping into. He's a little down syndrome boy excited about his new backpack and riding a train. Riding a real train! And talk about airplanes! He was chosen.

You - yes you - are a down syndrome little boy from the worst mental institution in the back-waters of Ukraine. Except you have freedoms to eleviate and limit some of your suffering. A semblance of control. If you find this idea painful you can reject it too. But it may be that you see what I see in this photo...a child brought out of a mess into a real family. Forever. Maybe you see yourself and wonder...what would that smile look like on me? If you are a Christian 'in the family'..you might ponder what God felt like when he slapped that first eternal grin on you. Maybe He wants you to know. Maybe...He wants you to know.

Blog Manager

2009-02-15T18:51:00.000-08:00

Hey! This is his daughter. I just changed his page. Let me know what you think!

Impossible?

2008-12-18T20:32:00.000-08:00

Ever wonder if God was there? Or if he cared? Or maybe you messed up with this whole Christian thing?

That he gave you a heart for good...but then bound your hands. Or a time when he answered a small little day-to-day kind of prayer - took care of something that was nothing really...but did it in a big way, astounding way. Yeah...it was cool.

Then something big comes...something really worthy of His intervention...but nothing. Thats ok..not yet, his timing. Wait. Wait. Trust.

Still waiting? Yeah, me too.

Oh - and while you wait you see people (friendly friends) drop off like rain. You find yourself alone...staring at the impossible...the impossible he is famous for making sooooooo possible. Alone. Stupid.

Maybe you are suppose to learn something. So many are sure of it, maybe they are right? But then...when you think, they are as stupid as you. You just have the view... the one you get at the end of the rope. Only room for one there. One at a time I guess.

Look up that rope and you will see where you have been...all the kind folks gripping the rope with one hand and clinching onto their latest salvation in the other hand. Some holding a good sermon, a cool tune, vacation plans, a beer, a good deed, volumes of Calvin, ... each item from you view though... looks like a handful of crap.

One orphan girl pinned in by demons. Come on! Really...how hard is that??

Out of Options...

2008-10-20T20:28:00.000-07:00

I met a stranger the other day. He noted that there is something, just something, about stopping. Stopping at something you were certain about when you first started. Specifically, were you ever sure about something God told you? Where he cut through all your garbage and made you to hear Him? Probably, you were at your worst spiritual state...and therefore, unknowingly, at your most attentive to him. A broken and momentary spiritual giant who heard Gods personal direction.

I have been there a couple of times. Usually it is an answer to prayer for direction. He speaks. And often in very general terms He tells you to go...to do...this or that. So you do gladly and with all confidence and hope. Then somewhere along the way you sense His pulling away. You begin to see that your idea of speed does not reflect the reality you are experiencing. You slow...you wonder...you doubt. You plead. Nothing.

There you are...in the cernter of the weeds where you first expected glorious flowers all about you. Alone. You slow.

You stop. And you harden. You are surrended to your experience where once...some time back, too far back...you were surrendered to Him, trusting.

You are then resolute to create a 'Paxel' kind of state of mind. Where nothing gets to you, where you expect little if anything, and you plod. There is something about plodding that cements your stoppage...a kind of stopping program. This is life...plod...expect nothing...wait the ride out.

Back to my stranger. There is just something about stopping - when things don't turn out. The results were not what you expected, dreamed or hoped for. But the One who set you on your venture...He had results in mind for certain. All He asked was that you move in Him. Do we presume He would want us to stop moving in Him? In what He laid on our heart in such a general way demanding daily trust? No. But the enemy...yes, that is his focused interest. To move on our flesh...to vex...to clog and cloud.

Was there direction back there? You know there was...

"Move in Me writing, fighting for an orphan..."

But all is shattered and hopeless.

"You are called to My purpose."

But where is your power?

"In My Son in you."

That is theology.

"No. Move in Me."

I just don't know anymore.

"Take that with you."

Really?

"Yep. See?"

Living the Life

2008-09-06T21:32:00.000-07:00

You ever wonder why you are where you are? This may be an actual 'after 40' writing. You ever get caught between your incredible blessings, the attending responsibilities, and a wrong vocation?

We know the free spirits for which living seemed their art. They would write or paint, sure. But we find they lived with passion. Others recluse. But each living as true to their desires as they possibly could. I am thinking of Poe, Gauguin, Einstein, Hemingway, Louis L'Amour, others.

Compromise was not something they allowed into their lives and dreams. Do you spend a great deal of time in a cubical? Or a business that simply serves the same function and purpose? A work that attends the responsibilities of your wonderful blessings - your family.

Now some of heroes listed above and others made a choice - a decision to compromise their families. But some didn't even allow even that one indiscretion. They insisted on having it all to the best of their ability.

What if you missed this understanding early on - the one they grasped? What could you do then being old? Now, as the title of L' Amour final work - Education of a Wandering Man - I can say that has been my case until the point I turned deeply into my own thinking. Waking from my slumber now I get that old familiar itch...to travel, to meet, to work something new. To rescue and create.

Scripture tells us that a work was put in place for us before we were even born. And Christian gurus tell us that we can find our 'purpose.' For me, I can't hear that without thinking of Steve Martin in the Jerk. But scripture, I can buy that. He says the poor is always with us...and that orphans need help as well, fatherless need fathers. He says, shake the world off you. Serve, give, help, and live abundantly resting in Him.

What if we made that our art? Families in tow on that adventure. A smile on our face not brought there by the latest comedian, movie, or Italian meal.

What if we sought to maybe even make that our vocation?

Yeah, I need to get real. And while I do that stop telling other people what they should do - what 'the Bible says.'

That's the real hurdle isn't it - living a life that enrages people. Being a counter-cultural freak who oppresses others with their talk of ... orphans.

PLACES

2008-08-23T18:51:00.000-07:00

Travel. There are so many possible places. There is always the 'before I die I want to' kind of place. I think this city, Budapest, would have to be my number one. It brings to mind many images of history....but of of other cultures and places. East meets West. All the counts and kings and queens. All the scandal and intrigue. It seems a strange and dark place to me.

What interests me most is how little I know of this place, culture or history. The city is more like a vague rumor. I don't even know one single historic point of interest or landmark. I know about a few places, some details of them,but have no inclination to visit them...the great well-known areas of the world...not since they invented cable TV.

Wait. I believe they have a large Gypsy population. It all makes sense now. :-)

If you are passing by this blog along your Internet travels - and you have been to this great city of which I am so stupid of - please drop some knowledge and experience in the comments section below. I would love to learn more about it.

Köszönöm!!

Inertia

2008-08-12T18:35:00.000-07:00

Inertia

Do you know what
You wrote on me?
A start so strange
violent
You moved me through
To
And about
Windless
The struggle,bliss
The books and bikes
Choices
Too hard to know
You with me to act
From the rim
Of my sleeve
Running
Slowing too often
In wonder
And to touch
Asking always
Vexing me so very
Where blue meets blue
The endless horizon
And you...beyond it

How I Became a Feminist - well, I get it anyhow

2008-08-07T08:49:00.000-07:00

New Testament Review and comparison. The conclusion to a contextual study of Genesis Chapter 3, 1-7

NKJV - 1Ti 2:14 -And Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived, fell into transgression.

NLT - 1Ti 2:14 -And it was the woman, not Adam, who was deceived by Satan, and sin was the result.

NIV - 1Ti 2:14 -And Adam was not the one deceived; it was the woman who was deceived and became a sinner.

Note that in all three popular versions that

1) they do not state that Eve deceived Adam. This is consistant with Genesis 3.

2) The NLT is incorrect - Adam was deceived by Satan. The NLT is inconsistent with Genesis 3.

The popular implication of the text of Gen.3 combined with 1 Tim. 2:14 is that Eve deceived Adam. By his silence and submitting to her offer to eat of the fruit he took a submissive role. The idea that she gave him the fruit implies that she deceived him.

But the reality is clear. They both were deceived. First Adam who was responsible for the whole garden. In this deception of his heart he was teamed with Satan to allow Eve to test the fruit from the framework of her own state of deception.

Adam sinned first. And it was for his sin that the New Testament said Christ had come.

So both Adam and Eve were deceived by Satan. The context of the Genesis narrative informs the silence of Adam who was present and therefore engaged.

Both Adam and Eve were enticed at the notion of autonomy from God - to be His peer. The result of their acting on this (as individual children of God) was that they received limited autonomy from God (they received a degree of what they wanted). Adam would be called to provide fro his family and Eve would conceive without divine protection from the pain of it.

Together they would discover community without God. That was the moment when power and politics was formed. And this has been our lot since.

See Text:

Gen 3:15
And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.

Gen 3:16
Unto the woman he said, I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children; and thy desire [shall be] to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee.

Gen 3:17
And unto Adam he said, Because thou hast hearkened unto the voice of thy wife, and hast eaten of the tree, of which I commanded thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat of it: cursed [is] the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat [of] it all the days of thy life;

Adam listened to the CONVERSATION of his wife (present and engaged...though silent) no where does the text say Eve said "here Adam, eat this."

So folks of the faith, this is important to know as far as reflecting on how our theology has informed our understanding and attitudes. The church for two millennium has mixed the post-fall reality with the pre-fall condition. The church has indoctrinated in one form or another that 'Adam was deceived by Eve.' and 'Adam gave up his headship over Eve, becoming a passive male.'

This understanding has led to much misery for women for literally thousands of years. No one having time to be clear on the fact of equality before God as laid out in the Genesis narrative. The narrative being warped and proclaimed from the male dominated church. This, as explained later in Genesis, only brought natural rebellion from the other now dominated (rather than loved and respected according to plan) group...women.

So in conclusion and for illustration I present a small tidbit from my own life:

Child 1: "She did it first."

Child 2: "That's not true, he did."

Father: "That's not the point...in fact...it doesn't even matter. You are treating each other badly, and that hurts me too."

Additional Thinking

2008-08-06T19:34:00.000-07:00

Some additional thinking on these two areas of scripture - that interested me.

1) They actually can be used by serious feminist oriented theologians. These are quite proper reviews of the narratives and should be promoted. I hope one of those theologians swing by and pick up on these. The improper interpretation of these texts were foundational to negative ecclesiastical communities, to women, for centuries.

The basis of their argument would be based in the reality of the text rather than the often promoted political intentions that are wrongly applied to the text. Or in some cases - work to try and make the text irrelevant.

2) Technically speaking - Adam murdered his wife and then committed suicide. It just didn't happen in the moment.

FINAL: GEN. - Contextual Study of Chapter 3, 1-7

2008-08-05T19:50:00.000-07:00

Gen 3:1 NOW the serpent was more cunning than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said to the woman, "Has God indeed said, 'You shall not eat of every tree of the garden'?"

Satan draws on God's words in the form of a question.

Gen 3:2 And the woman said to the serpent, "We may eat the fruit of the trees of the garden;
Gen 3:3 "but of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God has said, 'You shall not eat it, nor shall you touch it, lest you die.'"

Eve answers imperfectly as God did not add they could not touch it. That seems to have been something of her own planning.

Gen 3:4 Then the serpent said to the woman, "You will not surely die.

Satan brings God's word into question conversationally. He lies. Adam (silent throughout) and Eve find themselves in a discussion of the validity of God's word.

Gen 3:5 "For God knows that in the day you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil."

Satan now has projected the very thing that he was about - the thing that got him kicked out of heaven...pride. Adam is silent in this text but present. He is already entertaining the idea that Gods word can be revisited for interpetation and clarification. Now he is presented with the possibility of being God. He is silent but present. Satans propsal is a gamble. Adam knows that God said he would die. But Satan suggests that he will not die AND he will be like God.

Adam allows for this new interpretation to be tested. If Eve eats the fruit and dies - he will surely not eat of the fruit. If Eve does not die then he can be like God and will eat of the fruit.

Gen 3:6 So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree desirable to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate. She also gave to her husband with her, and he ate.

Gen 3:7 Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves coverings.

Because Adam is silent in the text no one generally wants to speculate what he might have been thinking. However, If you stay within the context of the narrative you can see that all these things are factual.

- Satan brings God's word into question conversationally. He lies.

- Adam is silent in this text but present

- he is presented with the possibility of being God

- Adam knows that God said he would die.

- Satan suggests that he will not die AND he will be like God

- If Eve eats and does not die - then Satan is correct in his statement "You will not surely die."

- If Eve does not die, in the context of the narrative, then it is logically good for Adam to eat the fruit as well

- Adam did eat

FINAL: JOB - a contextual study of Chapter 2, 9-11

2008-08-04T19:38:00.000-07:00

Some things to note in general:
Job is not the hero, God is.

Some things to note in paticular:
the one thing Job desired most was to die. And that is the one thing God would not allow. In the end of the narrative we see that God was focused all along on the heart of Job. He was not interested, at this point in Job's life, with his deeds or words.

All his kids are dead

All his servants are dead

All his camels, donleys, and oxen are stolen

Now it is down to him.

Job 2:5
"But stretch out Your hand now, and touch his bone and his flesh, and he will surely curse You to Your face!"

Job 2:6
And the LORD said to Satan, "Behold, he is in your hand, but spare his life."

Here we see that Job will not die. This will become the greatest evil that Job will experience.

Satan suggested the following to God "But now, stretch out Your hand and touch all that he has, and he will surely curse You to Your face!" (1:11)

Job 2:7
So Satan went out from the presence of the LORD, and struck Job with painful boils from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head.

Job 2:8
And he took for himself a potsherd with which to scrape himself while he sat in the midst of the ashes.

Job 2:9
Then his wife said to him, "Do you still hold fast to your integrity? Curse God and die!"

At this point Job's wife was externalizing her feelings. This evident in the text. Feelings she knew were also her husbands. He was known as a great man...but she knew him as a man, one who lost everything and filled with pain inside and out. She could not hold back her honest thoughts. She was truthful and asked her husband to be true as well.

Job 2:10
But he said to her, "You speak as one of the foolish women speaks. Shall we indeed accept good from God, and shall we not accept adversity?" In all this Job did not sin with his lips.

Here we see the text is specific that Job did not sin with his lips. We know that a person sins in his heart. This detailed editorial given in the text is redundant and is meant to make a point. The point is that Job was using what some might call today 'Godly words'. Thes are used to mask truthful emotions that that might give evidence of a fear, doubt, even hate.

Job 2:11
Now when Job's three friends heard of all this adversity that had come upon him, each one came from his own place--Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite. For they had made an appointment together to come and mourn with him, and to comfort him.

We see the whole narrative that Job could not see. Because he did not heed his wife's advice God could not enter into the discussion he desired to have with Job. He would have to suffer the 'help' of his friends for the next 35 chapters. (ever experience that?)

But finally, his sinless 'lips' mentioned in 2:10 can no longer hold in the truth of his self-rightous heart. And God can enter into conversation with him. And have a real heart to heart. This was the intent of God all along. To reveal Jobs heart and reason with him concerning its condition.

Remember that He held two meetings for this specific pupose.

Job 1:6. 2:1 Now there was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the LORD, and Satan also came among them.

Job 38:1
THEN the LORD answered Job out of the whirlwind, and said:
Job 38:2
"Who is this who darkens counsel
By words without knowledge?
Job 38:3
Now prepare yourself like a man;
I will question you, and you shall answer Me.

Now, will you read this in a popular commentary (or any)? Will you consider that Job's wife was not evil? I don't know, maybe not. Will this understanding help you consider the trappings of your own heart? Will it help you to trust that God is not a bully and can take, wants to hear, anything you feel that is true? I hope so. He really is love.

Contextual Theology

2008-08-03T18:39:00.000-07:00

Okay. I am, I think, creating a new discipline of theology. Much theology includes contextual consideration. But not enough to my mind. The scope (or periscope to be technical) of text that is studied today sometimes takes current accepted theology as the context. However, it is known that the Bible is its own best commentary. This fact will drive the study of two important areas of scripture (to start).

1) Gen. 2 - what really happened in the garden. What 'they' don't want you to know because...no, I don't have a clue why it has not been interpreted this way.

2) Job - why the book would have been greatly shortened if Job had only listened to his wife.

The goals of the upcoming study are as follows - A) edify the body for increased understanding and faith. B) continuous personal activity to help me avoid writing fiction...

Chaos Theory

2008-08-01T20:36:00.001-07:00

I saw a photo on a friends blog yesterday. It was on his interesting (recommended) blog. Jest a cell-phone snapshot. Folks walking at night in the bright-lights of NYC. The photo was entitled 'CHAOS'. This inspired thinking on this concept...chaos.

Its a good name - context is everything for sure. As an aside, in terms of inspiration, it make me think. Actual chaos is hard to represent - it seems to only reside in the abstract condition of the human heart. Everything else has an order because everything is created or made - even the intention to create is order - intention presupposes order. But these people in the photo create a tention against order...In their hearts..."maybe I can suddenly walk in the street instead"..."or put out one of those lights with a rock"..."what if she was my girlfriend instead?"...."I could use a beer"..ok, that thought was mine ;-)

Once, some time back, I remember sitting on a pier and studying Luke. Luke was a black lab and our station mascott. He was gifted at swimming and catching tennis balls in his mouth as fast as you could throw them. He was also adept at sleeping and eating. That was Luke.

Our unit was semi-famous for collecting, when we could, jumpers off the Golden Gate bridge - one a week average. Some experts came down once to visit us with their own statistics. The Suicide Prevention agency for the city. They said that interviews with all (all) failed suicide victims report that in that last split-second...a reason to live suddenly came to them. Most were relieved that it had. Their problem? They required a reason to live.

What would Luke say if he knew that? How perplexed he would be. He might look around to try and help these creatures who were so out of order. He would see some with desparate looks on their face....climbing a corporate ladder....home-schooling their kids 10 hours a day....drinking too much....adopting 15 handicapped children....organizing a PETA rally....blogging their brains out....some busy....some catatonic. Luke was a bright old lab. I bet he would eventually understand. He would look up to the top of that bridge and see an honest but tired person standing there groping for a reason not to jump. Then look under the bridge and see another honest person asleep there...clutching his empty bottle.

A Study of the Village....Christian

2008-08-01T20:24:00.000-07:00

Happiness. What is it?

Blessed ('happy' is accurate Hebrew meaning) is the man who puts his trust in the Lord.

Happy....happy. Is contentment the same as happy? Content is the man who puts his trust in the Lord..... despite the job, people, relationship problems? Money problems. Overwhelming evil in the world. Content is the man...man can only only be happy and content when he puts his trust in the Lord?

For tomorrow...what if tomorrow is crappy? Would he let it suck if I put my trust in him? yeah...he could. In all things pray...pray a desperate, I ain't content - prayer.

I have learned to be content, the Apostle Paul says...but...Paul was never content outside the context of that scripture...about money. Can a man reflect Gods heart in this world and be content? No.

So then, happy is not equal to content. Happy is to content as Grace is to an 'act' of mercy. Happy...is a daily dose of life-sustaining trust while sitting in a bowl of cow-patties. Being content in a bowl of cow-patties is....weird.

Random Matters...

2008-07-27T20:22:00.000-07:00

Funk. Everything you know and everything you want to know more about - don't matter. You know the number of your blessings - they are in your face. That doesn't matter. You are inconsolable, discontent. Any fix is an offense. Any offense is too small to impact you. What is a life-ring to someone for whom a lifering - dosen't matter?

I jumped 40 feet (I was told) from a helicopter one night into some pretty cold waves. Literally too stupid to fear.

I twice grieved a loss so extreme - and recoverd.

I was puzzeled once fishing a pair of black cordarory pants out of the San Fransico Bay. They still had legs in them. How do you...feel....about something like that? The wallet said he was Vietamese and a mental patient.

I use to fly planes and get lost. Landing in strange places...regularly.

I was alone hiking Old Woman mountain in Kodiak Alaska. I toted a six-pack, stick, and hockey-skates. At the top was a lone frozen pond. I tied my skates on, opened a can and threw a puck out. I skated about aimlessly pushing the puck about, drinking, thinking (I guess). Content.

I walked across a campus very early one morning thinking how perfect my paper on Carter Foreign Policy was. The more I walked I found areas that were questionable. Still walking I then wondered about the nature of truth. How maybe all these truths might imply an ultimate truth....then there came a sudden swooping sound of wind by my head - and a 'thud' sound. I stopped and looked down to see a dead white dove. I looked back and the hawk that flew by my head landed on a tree. He stared at me standing there with his food at my feet. I was puzzled...but somehow, it mattered.

There is no Great Commission

2008-07-23T20:46:00.000-07:00

There is no Great Commission

What kind of heresy is this? Of course there is a Great Commission. It was given to us by our Lord. He commissioned his 11 disciples to “go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.”

I would like to take another look at this text on several levels. First I will address the statement itself. Simply put, the words great commission are not to be found anywhere in the Bible. Now that does not invalidate the theological proposition the statement represents. There are many Theological terms that are not in the Bible but represent the best interpretation of a concept put forward in a given text of scripture.

But I will submit that this term, this label, used to interpret the scripture is not at all the best. In fact, in our culture, it is the most dangerous. Then I would like to look at a more proper interpretation of this text and see just how powerful the more true meaning is to our Christian lives.

Mat 28:16 Then the eleven disciples left for Galilee, going to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go.
Mat 28:17 When they saw him, they worshiped him-but some of them still doubted!
Mat 28:18 Jesus came and told his disciples, "I have been given complete authority in heaven and on earth.
Mat 28:19 Therefore, go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.
Mat 28:20 Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you. And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age."

The context here is very important. We see the disciples are beset with incredible doubt, unbelief. And this even though they are in His very presence. So this is the situation Jesus is in, the context. We know this is no new problem to Jesus as this was a constant battle he had throughout his ministry. And He was ready with the same remedy He offered so many times before. He instructed the disciples to exercise the faith that was yet in them. He encouraged them to action that they would see Him work and increase their faith.

Within this text we do not see Jesus put down an arbitrary edict, a commandment. He simply makes an affirmative statement akin to “I Am.” Then He gives them what should be their natural expression of this reality that will be to them supernatural activity like they could not even imagine. This power is ours. Ours to exercise and draw such results as would blow away any doubt and unbelief they held. We know from scripture that they did and the wonders worked through their faith built their faith incredibly, unto death.

We have a corporate culture today. So many identify with being workers and members of corporations. One negative result of a corporation is that sometimes poor policies or dishonest actions occur. But the corporation can weather these storms easily in that no one individual is ever to blame. Instead it is a ‘corporate’ mistake. This faceless entity is to blame and well, you can’t take an non-existent entity to task. Its not a moral problem to pinned on any person.

The church in America has without question fallen into a corporate state. A state of reason where what can be done for the Kingdom is limited only by available funds. There is today a culture of a Christian Corporation. In this corporate culture every person is important to increase the Kingdom through participating through giving and serving. Each Christian Corporation has an officiating board, management structure, and a few folks in the field. There silent majority is encouraged to maintain the corporate machine through giving and service. The corporation will choose many programs the members can tap into for service. Local or short term mission opportunities are designed and offered by the upper management groups. This is so the members can know and be directed to give (and possibly serve) where God is at work.

Every corporation has a mission statement to rally their workers around. Ours is the Great Commission. While this is all out there they must busy the workers with personal holiness.

Jhn 10:10 The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have [it] more abundantly.

This takes to another amazing aspect tied to this event. Jesus said that one reason He came in the first place was to give us abundant life. How do we imagine He meant that? What did abundant mean?

The Christian Corporation has mirrored the world in defining for its members what abundant life is. It is only limited by our desire to sin. The abundant life is much like what the world understands as the good life. Happy marriage, right-thinking children, no debt and no sin. Its all very simple and there is so much scripture to support these endeavors.

But I ask now, is this what the disciples came to experience as abundant life? We know they did not. Their lives were abundant because they were encouraged to exercise their faith in order that they could experience their faith. And if asked, they would tell you it cost them dearly and cost them nothing. That God took their mustard seeds of faith and showed them how mountains could be moved. He showed them how abundant life was intimately tied to removing the bushel from their light. And abundant life was to experience God in their actions of going and telling and sewing and reaping and healing and prophesizing. They learned just how supernatural the gift of a Christian life is. They learned how incredibly personal and individual it was. In their unspeakable joy they knew without a doubt that had they never left that upper room it would have been ok. God never needed them. He just loved them beyond understanding and wanted to give them good gifts. They found that all of everything in the universe, in all of history, all that is promised was for them. That it is all about them, each individual one of them. Jesus was and is ‘I Am.’

What is possible for the Ambassadors of the One who has been given complete authority in heaven and on earth? I know 11 guys who would tell you. I believe they would affirm they were not cogs in a corporate wheel motivated by some silly slogan. They were natural men supernaturally aware of their supernatural condition. They were motivated by the continual work of Love being wrought in each of them individually and personally. And increased in faith with every supernatural result of the love working out of them. I’ll even bet they could come close to agreeing with God they too ‘so loved the world.’ Can you say that? No, me either. But do we know that such a joy and faith is possible? It is.

I have a son. He is five years old. You know, I don’t look for his admiration. I like it, sure. But I am okay without it. I was okay before he existed. But I must tell you, I hate a day that might go by when I don’t get to see him grow and live in the sureness that he is loved by me.

Here is an example of how this might play out if you agree with the tinking on this matter:

The Emperors New Clothes:

"But there is no Great Commission. It's just not in the text and feels hollow and empty. I Think He means something more personal than that - something more relational....more powerful. Like Love. In fact, I think everything He has made - the universe, creation, His giving of Himself....is about us and for us. This world and all that is in it is for us to love. None of it is about Him...He just simply is. He is self-sufficient."

Then Mark was removed from Seminary, they implanted Johnny Hunt sermons into his MP3 player and gave him many church-planting books to read. He memorized the various strategies and agreed that church-planting is the way. People get behind it. He agreed with 'bang for buck' rule of law. He even began to put his trust in the tithe. He was restored to the fold...and very very happy. You can tell even today by the grin that never leaves his face.....no matter what.

Likewise, as Orwell's novel concludes, Winston and Julia are taken to the Ministry of Love as part of the reprogramming process. Since Winston fears rats, he is tortured with rats until his feelings for Julia are destroyed. As confirmation that he sees the new reality of the state, Winston writes that 2+2=5. The reprogramming is successful. He is cured. As the final sentence of Orwell's book concludes, "He loved Big Brother."

He loved the law. ;-(

Who Loves You, Baby!

2008-07-21T19:58:00.001-07:00

Listening to R.E.M Green. I can't believe this is about 20 years old. I didn't even know how good it was when I first thought it was the 'best'...and Depech Mode. I think my Ray-Bans had paint splashes on them...purposely manufactured that way. What was that??

Anyhow, tonight, the day after writing my first poem in...a long time (about confusion and love and God and 'the problem of evil'...and an incredible kid). Thinking on something concerning faith that has recently put me at odds with my evangelical community...(I think that is my faith community)

Rick Warren is fond of his SO accepted view that he finally learned "It's all about God." That resinates with Christians somehow in a big way... record best-seller kind of ways. That's all fine but I was wondering who told him that? If there is a reader out there, will you attempt to walk through to this conclusion with me? Maybe we can start out there on the event horizon, so-to-speak, and work our way to the epicenter of this astounding revelation.

At some point, folks agree it was a...point, time and space came into existence. Then light found its way here with matter. Stars and physical laws that are nearly unshakable. Then this one planet where there is water, air, heat, plants. And people. Lets stop here for just a moment and ask a question or two - Did God need these things? Who needs these things?

Moving on - this for the faith folks - there is revealed and repeated for well over 2000 years that God intended to take and punish his own son. Then he did. Then people talked about it for another 2000 years. Another rest-stop for these questions - Did God need these things? Who needs these things?

What if...maybe...."Its all about me." Maybe God is trying to get that message through to us. Could he be just too subtle with the creation and sacrifice angle? Lets help him out...get some bumper stickers made. Here's one... "Who loves you, baby!"

Poem - expect one every decade...or so

2008-07-21T19:55:00.000-07:00

Answer Me

I don’t know where you are
Only that you say
You are
And a beer

She was swinging there
You saw her
Her eyes never leaving me
The new smile hoping

Is that power nothing
But for a moment
Move
Or kill me

You saw her there
You know you did
A new smile
And for what?

Nothing New...So...Out of Context Excerpts Ripped from My Stupid Novel (remember as fun to write) - E2 - 'CORT...the straw that broke the camel's...'

2008-07-14T05:30:00.000-07:00

Jules hadn’t spoken to Cort since the night of the play. He really felt he was within his rights to leave that night. The little man, he thought, didn’t seem as bothered by it as she made out. She was being dramatic as usual, Cort thought. And she had to know she went too far with that play since he heard the whole place emptied before it was over. Cort was getting tired. Tired of constantly justifying his actions to almost everyone. No, he thought, as of late it was everyone. His boss, the board, the new mayor, the developer, and his wife. Even Ted was getting to him and he never took him seriously. Last time they talked Cort had to justify his very existence. Ted was getting himself born-again, again, or something. Well, he remembered, he took care of that conversation. He told Ted to justify his girlfriend and then get back to him. And since that morning at Hugo’s, Ted had not accomplished either. Cort thought he might have lost a friend, so to speak. He actually feared he had.
Cort placed his order through the Sonic speaker and turned his engine off. As he waited for his number two burger, with it’s extra onions, he thought his salvation through. He would run the ITC approval through immediately, and Ted would then follow suit. Then papers would be served to Elijah. He gave him fair warning, he didn’t have to. And the golf course deal would just be another cash cow to manage. Then he would change. He would make his yard into the hanging gardens of Babylon. Never miss a game, and show up to every play Jules put on and not care how stupid it was. With the promotion he could take real vacations, out-of-state ones. Maybe they would go all the way to Disney world, definitely to Disney World. He was just pulling out of his spot when his cell phone rang. It was Ted. He never answered those before. Was never sure why Ted kept trying, but he did. For Cort, work had been cold and so was his house. Suddenly it seemed to him a good idea to chat with Ted. To hear a voice, even an annoying one, seemed needful somehow. He pulled his car out of the way and parked next to Sonic’s dumpster. He called Ted back.
“Hey, Ted. What’s up.” Cort faked enthusiasm. He caught himself, chastised himself. He felt he was faking just about every thing he did and said lately. For just a brief moment he found himself wondering if the man on the other end of the line was better than him. Ted’s voice, and all it represented to him, helped him erase that thought.
“You read the paper?” Ted asked almost demanding, yet with fright.
“Sometimes. Why?”
“No. Did you read it this morning?”
“No, Ted, I didn’t read the paper this morning. Are we at war with Midwest City or something?” He was glad he called Ted back. He was starting to feel better. Cort felt the world start to right itself as his sarcasm took hold, took control.
“Okay. Get the Times. Page three. Call me back.” Ted said and hung up.
Cort could not believe that Ted just gave him instructions. That Ted simply hung up on him. Now nothing made sense again. He looked up at the dumpster through his windshield. This was more dramatic than even Jules would come up with. Read the paper. Hang up on me, he thought. Well, he wasn’t going to be in this weird play. He wasn’t going to read the paper. It wasn’t normal and he wanted normal. He called a client in Spindle and asked if they might could meet sooner. She agreed and he drove to met her at a convenience store off Mustang Road. She had a revised business plan to show him and he was going to approve it. Then he was going to process it. And then he was going to go home and do what he could to get Jules to say hello. Say something.
The woman was already there when Cort arrived at the store. She looked very nervous. It seemed to him that she was avoiding eye contact with him. This made Cort feel better. Someone, and because of him, was going to go home happy today. He had already had the loan papers faxed to his car and listed the account as open. But she probably had been up all night preparing for their meeting, he thought, probably nervous that the schedule changed. He would give her time, respectfully, to at least introduce her revised plan. Cort had not even completely sat down when she started in talking.
“Mr. Johnson. I’m so sorry. I just couldn’t tell you over the phone. You have been so nice to me.” Again avoiding his look.
“I don’t understand.”
“I know it is all just a mistake. That it will all get cleared up. But the investors, they’re just in a hurry.” She said.
“Really, I’m sorry. I just don’t...is there some sort of problem?”
“Well, they just really pushed for Central Bank. And they came through this morning.”
“Oh. That’s okay. I really thought we had a better rate, but that’s okay. Can I ask what they came in at?”
“Well, not much higher.” she said as she stood to leave. She so obviously wanted to leave.
“Higher? I really don’t understand.” Cort said.
“They just felt, you know. They are just in a big hurry, that’s all. I really need to get over there, to Central. I really am sorry you had to drive over. It’s just hard for me. I’m sorry.” She was determined to leave.
“That’s okay. Really.” Cort replied as she walked out.
Cort sat for nearly thirty minutes without a thought. Eventually, mechanically, he walked over and poured himself a coffee. He stopped by the newspaper rack on his way back to the table. Why not, he thought. He picked up the Times with the feeling he might read his horoscope. Why not, he thought.
He avoided the third page for the longest time. Reading the editorial, he realized that he had no real opinion about anything discussed. Cort didn’t read the paper, ever. He didn’t care about news much. He considered himself pretty much above politics. Finally, he felt like just updating this account, this almost account, and going home. Cort turned to page three and began to read. There was mention of the Willow Springs Industrial Trust Committee. The piece mentioned a Mr. Cort Johnson. Something about their buying land for pennies on the dollar, selling the land back to companies at fair market value. About their being a possible separate LLC in place that held the gains. Then more mention of Cort Johnson. The words County Commissioner and investigation leaped off the page. A word about a proposed war memorial that never seemed to materialize. And again another mention of a board member by the name of Cort Johnson. And none of it was true. It was tastier, more suspicious. The article was better than true.
An hour later Cort was still sitting at the little table crowded by the candy isle and surrounded by stacks cheap beer. He was just staring at his empty Styrofoam cup turning around and around in his hands. The kid behind the counter at the gas station walked over to clean the next table. Cort moved his eyes just then to study him and noticed that it was already clean.
“That table doesn’t need cleaning.” Cort snapped.
“What? Oh. Just staying busy.” The boy replied.
“You staying busy or just a busy-body?”
“What?”
“Nothing. What’s your name?”
“I ain’t no busy-body. It’s just that you don’t answer your phone. It rang like 20 times. You okay?”
Cort turned back to his fascination with the coffee cup. He had never been so at peace in his mind before that day. He couldn’t even think of one thing to worry about or control. He stayed in his bliss for another hour before calling the boy back over.
“You ever wonder what life is all about?” Cort asked.
“No. You want more coffee?”
“Me either. I never wondered, not even once I don’t think. But I know what it is, what it’s all about.” Cort reached into his wallet, pulled out over 300 dollars and gave it to the boy.
“Yeah. I know, it’s about money.” The boy answered uneasily.
“No, son. You keep it. If it’s about money then you got a real problem. I know what life is about without even wondering or asking. Life just decided to tell me today.”
“Really. You ok? I shouldn’t keep this.” He put the money on the table.
“I’m taking off now. And I don’t know if it’s worth two cents to know this now at your age. Or any age, really. Life is about revenge. You know those kids in your school with the nice cars and who don’t work? Their parents became successful to show the world they were really somebody – revenge. And those kids are stealing and drinking and who knows what else to tick their folks off – revenge. When the Kiwanis club guys raise money to get poor kids boots and coats, that’s good, but revenge as well. You starting to see what I mean?”
“I get it.”
“You know, I think you do too.” Cort left the money and cell phone on the table. He kept the coffee cup and walked out without another word. He even completely forgot the boy and their talk; he was wholeheartedly in the moment. He opened the trunk and dropped his laptop bag in before getting into the car. He drove until it got real dark. His mind felt free but he was troubled in parts of himself that he never knew he had. An awful pain came on him but he couldn’t pinpoint where it was. It was hitting him somewhere deep and heavy but somewhere new and unknown. He thought maybe it was his soul. That maybe Jules was right about all that junk and he needed fixing. He remembered the word she used was something like saving. The notion was not so repugnant to him now but also seemed as futile as any idea that existed. He knew life was just about revenge so what was this silly hope she had. Wasn’t it just another crappy burden, another ideal to spend time defending and promoting? But maybe, he thought, just maybe there was some power that caused this hope he knew she had. Maybe even the reason for the joy he had seen her express many times. That weird, other-worldly joy and care for life and people. God, he thought, how she loved people in trouble and in need. He drove back towards the old spot, to the oil well hoping for answers there. He always felt at peace there. Maybe it could ease the pain and the lack of pain he felt. Or didn’t feel. No more, he thought, no more.
The giant loose bolt on the top of the oil well clanged in perfect time to the rise and fall of the pump. The loud rhythm was to Cort like an amplified second hand of a giant clock. A never-ending time piece. He thought how nothing was that way though, nothing really lasted forever. Just some things seemed to go on and on. Cort realized that this was nothing like the movies. He always thought the guy standing high on the sky-scraper ledge was trying to build up the courage to jump. But he knew in that moment they really needed the courage to not jump. He paced around the well searching his memory for a word or an image. Something, anything. Nothing.
The same paper that exacted revenge on him would soon redeem themselves the next morning. It was a follow-up story on page six and this time it was factual. They wrote about Willow Springs and the man Cort Johnson that didn’t go home the previous evening. How he was found on oil company property sitting leaned up against the base of a natural gas well. And how the .45 caliber handgun was licensed to him.

Nothing New...So...Out of Context Excerpts Ripped from My Stupid Novel (remember as fun to write) - E1 - 'MEG'

2008-07-14T05:26:00.000-07:00

Meg Pearson was almost magazine pretty, tall with auburn hair and green eyes. At first glance men would respond to her as if seeing something very rare. Like living in Jersey City and walking to the parking lot to find a Bald Eagle perched on the hood of your car. For some men she met along the way this utter enchantment would extend well into their bank accounts before they came to. The last one was not like that. She met him at a hotel bar off Interstate 40. Past the third exit into Memphis. She had just quit her waitress job in Charlotte the week before and was hiding out at her mother's house. She wasn't especially welcome there, not since birth. But as long as she came home very late and left very early, everything was manageable. He didn't even look her way the whole night. He looked nice enough and bought enough to perk her interest. She was in a rare state of semi-reflection that night. She imagined, for just a moment, what it would be like to be sane. To be normal and maybe even be loved. He seemed so nice. His timing was perfect when he asked if he could just sit with her. He didn't offer to buy a drink or even compliment Meg. He just sat, pleasantly and patiently. Then she talked to him. They would go into the restaurant together and get coffee. For Meg in this moment, this was like being swept off to Paris. They closed the restaurant together and walked about the hotel courtyard until they settled in at a round plastic table near the empty pool. It was a clear night full of stars and the sounds of passing cars and crickets mingling together. He was funny and attentive and seemed to her to be educated, though his work didn't require it. In fact, his whole life story wasn't very adventurous or exciting. He seemed so at ease with his life, though. She knew what that looked like because she had never seen or experienced it before. He walked her to her room door and said good night. She peeked back out of her room to watch him leave. The next morning she woke early with something new stirring inside her, something like hope. She showered, dressed quickly and looked for her things. She didn't have anything. Everything was at home but she didn't want to go home. She resolved to leave everything if he would take her with him.
Meg was waiting for him on the hood of his car. She waited past day break until he finally came out of his room. She took in every movement he made, coming out, closing the door behind him, turning to step onto the parking lot, walking towards her. His face looking pleasantly surprised. She had somewhat expected him to look horrified. He didn't. She had nothing to lose and she told her self so, again.
"Hi, Meg." he said as he passed her to put his bags in his trunk.
"Hi."
"You sleep good?" He asked.
"Yeah. No."
"Me either," he said as he moved in close to her, "I was wondering if you would like to go to Little Rock with me. I got a job there."
She leaped off the hood of the car and onto him. Leaving the motel, Meg was sitting in the middle of the front seat and kissing on him about every ten seconds. And he seemed so happy with her. She was on her honeymoon, in her state of mind, and on her way to Little Rock. Her man had a job waiting there. They would arrive in Little Rock late that night. The plan was for her to look for an apartment for them while he was at his job interview. That next day she found three apartments and brought the marketing pamphlets back to the hotel. She was mostly just excited about their choosing one together. That was the last place she saw him, when he was leaving in the morning for a job interview in Little Rock, Arkansas.
Her grief was unbearable, her pride destroyed. Meg decided to get back on the hi-way and just keep going. It wasn't so much a decision as it was that it was simply the nearest route of escaping from herself that she could see. The motel was on I-40 and next to a used car lot. She had enough money to buy a two hundred dollar car and some gas. The previous owner was nice enough to throw in four milk jugs filled with water and a case of oil. He wouldn't need them anymore, he said, but she would. The remaining money ran through her gas tank and ran out thirty miles outside Oklahoma City. Willow Springs.
Ted called Meg the day he knew he was going to run for mayor. She put out as much interest as she could. The whole affair for her had passed from necessary to boring and into painful. Her agreement with this Rusty guy was to just to spend some time, time to time, as he put it. But she had no idea how Ted would be, how needy. Whatever it was for, she knew it was suppose to have ended a full month ago. But the Frank Howard guy kept sending her more money and she kept taking it. She was actually starting to know people now. Half the apartment complex knew her. Many in town knew her from the restaurant and she went to lunch with coworkers more and more. This never happened in Charlotte and it actually made Willow Springs into a more interesting place for her. It was a nice place, she thought. And to leave it suddenly, the way she was left in Little Rock was going to fix everything.

Living In the Now?

2008-07-11T20:04:00.000-07:00

Does it bother anyone that everything is.... history? You know, that everything you tangibly experience pre-existed the moment of your experience. Everything is carried forward from somewhere prior.

Every room, every item you see, or touch, or feel...every word you speak was developed before you learned it. Every person you meet. Every show you watch...every TV you watch it on. All was there before you experienced them. Everything experienced pre-dates the moment of the experience. I am typing on a laptop manufactured 4 years ago in history. Typing words from hundreds of years ago.

In this reality how can we truly experience the 'present moment'? Our minds and imagination can transcend into the past or future. But is there any creative power to bring us into the...now? Or is it too loaded with the past to make ...unreachable?

I think maybe this is what is sought in nirvana. What Einstein wanted to say in our limits of speed. Likewise, we are limited to the past...and talk of the present in spite of all empirical evidence to the contrary.

Maybe this is where God comes in...where prayer lives. Where only a supernatural acting from outside our historical entrapment. Breaks through time and space because He created it and can do that. Breaks through and draws us into experiences of the present moment.

I guess we need to live the best we can within our limits with the benefit of experiencing the supernatural moments given to us along the way.

Wait! My five year old son wants to be spiderman...practices for it often. He doesn't acknowledge limits and seems quite happy...more than that, he appears quite certain. I need to sit at his feet awhile I think. :-)

Now what are Christian limits then if they experience moments of 'present time'. I guess I could be the Green lantern...if God wills!

Zen and the Art of War

2008-07-10T19:18:00.000-07:00

I found a seat far from the gate. I am always most comfortable when remote and obscure. I tried to study the travelers and guess at their lives, their troubles. The masses mesmerize me. All different colors and shapes and movement. A carousel. God, that nailed it. That was life, I thought, round and round. At first glance, all glitter, variation and noise. But then, when the ride lasts too long for the spectator, they see. They see the perfect unison of step and motion, the conformity. And then the dreaded truth. Round and round, no end. Moving so much the same, looking so much the same. Dull incarnate. Between brief interludes of passing hot flight attendants my mind drifted back to my Coast Guard unit at Kodiak Island, Alaska. The analogy seemed to have no end for me. That was my last station and it rained over 300 days a year there. But never really rained. Sprinkled, misted, annoyed with wetness. Relentless was this abuse, that ever dripping faucet.
I was trying this new cheap airline that handed me a plastic card with a number. One guy caught my eye. He was bald and wearing an orange sheet. Asian looking, a Buddhist. He wasn’t watching anyone. He just stared out into the post in front of him. He was wearing one of those Mona Lisa smiles. Was he smiling or wasn’t he? At first I was intent on catching him at his game, you know, like you hear tourists doing with the guards at Buckingham Palace. No go, he was a pro. Eventually I just started emulating him and drew my focus onto him. I thought I knew the game, empty yourself. I almost had a little chant coming on when another hot flight attendant passed by. She had legs up to there, you know.
They were loading the plane but I learned early that I didn’t have to jump when my number was called. Why stand in line when you already have a seat. This guy was good, real good. He also waited pleasantly while the very important people lined up like preschool kids leaving recess. Finally, it was just the two of us. This was my game now and I was ready. He looked over to me and our eyes locked. Bring it on, I thought, bring it on. He gave in, picked up his little canvas satchel and floated off to the ramp. I was so happy when I got to the gate but for some reason the ticket lady seemed to miss the showdown. I have met few people in my life less impressed with me.
“Um, excuse me,” I asked, “this card doesn’t have my seat number on it.”
“It’s first come, first on.” She replied.
“Yeah.” I said authoritatively like an undercover official. Just checking, got my eyes on you kind of thing. Again with the unusual disinterest from her. She was good.
The ride from O’Hare to Milwaukee was just long enough for me to bare. But no more. The man in the back of the plane next to me had this uncanny power to keep conversation at bay. He didn’t even pick up a book or barf bag to read.
"Sucks back here, huh."
Nothing
"You know, I could ask them to bring you a pillow to go with that orange sheet."
Nothing. A smile...I think.

A Favorite Photo

2008-07-09T20:20:00.000-07:00

This little guy above is Ukrainian. Hes on his way to a family, a hope and a future. I don't know all the motivations for people to step out and pull one of these little guys in. But I can't can't stop seeing the Gospel in this photo. He does not really know the hell is escaping...or the incredible future he is stepping into. He's a little down syndrome boy excited about his new backpack and riding a train. Riding a real train! And talk about airplanes! He was chosen.

The writing journey

2008-07-09T18:22:00.000-07:00

Seems this is where I start writing again. I will create categories of topics and expect there to be some changes early on. I will write through a mess of ideas that relate to life and people. A bit of Bible will show up. Probably put some photos up now and again. Disclaimer for fiction pieces...some will likely be in 1st person and some in 3rd person...and all a draft or eternal re-writes :-) Well....stay tuned if you dare.

Mark