I realized that 10/10/10 occurred just a few days ago, and I wanted to honor that by giving you 3 Top Ten lists of things current:
(1) Top Ten Things I Did On 10/10/10
1. Woke up at 11:30 and read through my Sunday School lesson.
2. Sat in Sacrament Meeting with Travis, first time in a month.
3. Got to play the closing hymn on the organ.
4. Taught Sunday School class on scriptural praises for Jesus in Isaiah.
5. Had dinner with Vivic, Karen, and BJ who's visiting from out of town.
6. Spent the evening with the above 3 plus Sailau, Fou, Ammon, Kilisitina, and Mikaele.
7. Took a 4 hour nap!
8. Spoke to Audge and Brayviun on the phone.
9. Watched a "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse" DVD with Ammon. Oh, Toodles!!
10. Put my 3-year old nephew to bed by cuddling with him.
(2) Top Ten Things On My Mind Right Now
1. President Boyd K. Packer's talk from General Conference
2. The 33 miners that were trapped in that mine in Chile for 69 days
3. How crazy Ezekiel Clinard is, haha. Love your face.
4. My first piano lesson with JJ Graves this Friday.
5. The awesome gig we had tonight at the Robin Hood in Union, WA.
6. A crazy game called "KFM" that I played tonight with the boys.
7. My good mate's EP that was just released on itunes! The band's called "Time You Exist," and the record is called "Are You Boys Looking For Anything In Particular?" Go GET IT!!!
8. How exciting it will be to hang with Jerremy and Tommy this weekend!
9. My doctor's appointment on Friday, my first in YEARS!
10. How terribly messy my bedroom is right now.
(3) Top Ten Songs I Can't Get Enough Of RIGHT NOW!
1. "Two Way Cul-de-sac" - Time You Exist
2. "Undertow" - Timbaland feat. The Fray and Esthero
3. "Touch" - Natasha Bedingfield
4. "Wrong Man For The Job" - JoJo
5. "Hello, Good Morning" - P. Diddy feat. T.I. and Rick Ross
6. "You're The One" - Dondria
7. "Waiting For The End" - Linkin Park
8. "Backin' Up Song" - The Gregory Brothers
9. "Black Sheep" - Metric feat. Brie Larson
10. "Limit To Your Love" - Feist
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Friday, October 8, 2010
100 Years
Earlier this week, I was paid to play the piano for a funeral at a local Lutheran church. I've been to countless funerals throughout my life, and normally they are not events that plant too firmly into my brain. I don't mean to be heartless; what I mean is: I go to a funeral, I pay my respects, I feel sorrow for the passing of a human being, I mourn with those who linger in love, and I move on. Typically, I find nothing too earth-shattering from my normal pattern occurs.
However, this experience was different. The man being honored was named Carl, and lived to be 100 years old! I didn't know the man, nor did I know anyone there in the congregation. I didn't know what to expect. First of all, I was the only non-white party there. Secondly, this church was located in a town called "Elk Plains," as hick a name as I've ever heard. And thirdly, I was not surrounded by a Mormon crowd, like I'm used to. So I half-expected some uncomfortable scenarios to play out. Maybe a story that laughed at the old guy's semi-racial prejudices, or his senile ways; or a lot of ridiculous tears and wailing.
None of that happened. Instead, one elderly woman married to one of his sons addressed the audience with a list of notable merits Carl earned, a few quirky but lovable tidbits of his character, and a rundown of his family history. She was followed by the testimonies of 4 grandsons and 2 great-grandsons. These testimonies really affected me: these were great men, of great stature, taste, and refinement. They shared their favorite memories of growing up with their Grandpa, and how the man helped mold them into the wonderful fathers, brothers, and husbands they are today. And though the woman before them shed no tears while she spoke, these guys wept openly and appropriately for the man they considered their hero.
What impressed me the most was the obvious theme throughout their testimonials: Carl is a family man. He understood the importance of family bonds, and made sure that that was embedded into the members of each generation of family after him. He exemplified righteous living through the morals he kept, and instilled this in all of the children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. He served them in little ways like cooking daily family breakfast, inventing creative embellishments for family stories, and emphasizing the importance of recording and keeping family history. They could not say enough how wonderful a family man Carl is, and how they would never forget that because of his example.
I couldn't help but ponder to myself the kind of life I would want to have lived if I was to look back on it after 100 years. Would I be proud of it? Would my family be proud of it? Will I have posterity to cherish my life? Will I have the opportunity to bless the lives of generations of Mose's to come over the next 70 some-odd years? These are the kinds of questions that continue to haunt me since that day. Sometimes, I can't even see past today, and I'm only 27! Yet going to that funeral taught me that time passes so quickly, and then your time is gone. I so badly want to make my life something worthwhile, something... special. And I'm realizing now that it would mean little to nothing without a family of my own. Just when I was getting used to the idea of being alone the rest of my life...
However, this experience was different. The man being honored was named Carl, and lived to be 100 years old! I didn't know the man, nor did I know anyone there in the congregation. I didn't know what to expect. First of all, I was the only non-white party there. Secondly, this church was located in a town called "Elk Plains," as hick a name as I've ever heard. And thirdly, I was not surrounded by a Mormon crowd, like I'm used to. So I half-expected some uncomfortable scenarios to play out. Maybe a story that laughed at the old guy's semi-racial prejudices, or his senile ways; or a lot of ridiculous tears and wailing.
None of that happened. Instead, one elderly woman married to one of his sons addressed the audience with a list of notable merits Carl earned, a few quirky but lovable tidbits of his character, and a rundown of his family history. She was followed by the testimonies of 4 grandsons and 2 great-grandsons. These testimonies really affected me: these were great men, of great stature, taste, and refinement. They shared their favorite memories of growing up with their Grandpa, and how the man helped mold them into the wonderful fathers, brothers, and husbands they are today. And though the woman before them shed no tears while she spoke, these guys wept openly and appropriately for the man they considered their hero.
What impressed me the most was the obvious theme throughout their testimonials: Carl is a family man. He understood the importance of family bonds, and made sure that that was embedded into the members of each generation of family after him. He exemplified righteous living through the morals he kept, and instilled this in all of the children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. He served them in little ways like cooking daily family breakfast, inventing creative embellishments for family stories, and emphasizing the importance of recording and keeping family history. They could not say enough how wonderful a family man Carl is, and how they would never forget that because of his example.
I couldn't help but ponder to myself the kind of life I would want to have lived if I was to look back on it after 100 years. Would I be proud of it? Would my family be proud of it? Will I have posterity to cherish my life? Will I have the opportunity to bless the lives of generations of Mose's to come over the next 70 some-odd years? These are the kinds of questions that continue to haunt me since that day. Sometimes, I can't even see past today, and I'm only 27! Yet going to that funeral taught me that time passes so quickly, and then your time is gone. I so badly want to make my life something worthwhile, something... special. And I'm realizing now that it would mean little to nothing without a family of my own. Just when I was getting used to the idea of being alone the rest of my life...
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Emails
This is a conversation I had with a friend of mine over emails. She's a sweet, funny woman in my parent's ward, and we've recently become friends. She asked me for advice, and I provided it, but you guys have given me tons of wonderful advice; so I asked her if I could put out conversation here so you could put in your two cents, too. Oh, and yes, I changed the guy's name.
Read this conversation I had with someone on facebook (I went to school with
his partner in Moab Utah). Please tell me what I should have said. This
really bothers me. And I can't find anywhere on LDS.org that Homosexuality
is equal to child molestation and murder.
ME: How cute did Keith change his name?
James Martin: No. Keith doesn't facebook and his partner, James's
mormon parents told him he was no longer a "Larsen" so he goes by "Martin"
...
Me: James I am so sorry and that breaks my heart! I am LDS, active,
temple worthy and also the proud parent of a gay son! This is the most un
Christ like behavior I have ever heard! Shame on your parents!!!! May they
be judged as harshly as they have judged you!!!
James Martin: "I'd be interested to know how you can be a temple worthy
Mormon & be a supportive mother of a gay son. This just tells me that you
sustain leaders who compare homosexuality with child molestation and murder
and then give these people money. You couldn't be too proud of your son or
the hypocrisy would drive you mad."
Me: I am sorry you feel that way. But I understand why.
James Martin: "Answered like a true Mormon. It was a real question. I'd
ask again but I'm not sure you understand the question. Good luck."
Me: I am a true Mormon and I do not take offense to it. I understand the
question and I also know that nothing I could say would make you change your
mind about how you feel towards the church. I am not one to debate
anything. Religion and politics on are on top of that list. You don't know
me and I don't know you. You stated your Mormon parents disowned you and I
think that is horrible and sad.
Me again: Sorry Chrissy for taking over your post on facebook. I am going
to delete my comments. James feel free to respond to me directly at
brenda.dickerson@comcast.net.
Brenda
Brenda,
I think your response was awesome! Good for you for sticking up for yourself, the church, and your son, all in one very short conversation, without attacking anyone, or apologizing for your own views. What you told Jeffery was honest, real, and very valid.
Whenever people ask me questions like that, I tend to respond with something like this:
Religion is a practice that enhances a relationship between a person and God. It is a very personal thing to me, my relationship to my Father, and I have strengthened it more by practicing the LDS faith than through any other means. If I support my leaders at church, it's not because of what they believe; it's because of what I believe. I go to church because I feel closer to God there than anywhere else. I love the temple, because God resides there, and I feel it everywhere I go when I'm there. I pay tithing because I'm grateful for the multitude of blessings God gives me daily, and He has only asked for 10% of my income. I have been blessed more than I have given, and I know that money has gone where God wants it to go. I have never given it to someone who was being payed to administer to me, because everyone who has come to my aid has done it of their own, profit-less accord.
Do I believe that there are members of the church who are close-minded, ignorant, or misinformed? Why yes, of course I do, because I've met them. I encounter them constantly, and I even support them at church, and become friends with them. Why? Because God asked me to love all of my neighbors, as I love myself. And you know what? The majority of these people have returned the favor. Some of these people have become my closest friends, and some of my best allies. And a minute number of them have ever suggested that homosexuality and pedophilia are synonymous, let alone murder. I'm sorry if that's been your experience, but it hasn't been mine; I'm very happy being a Mormon, and I think it's obvious. I respect those who are not, or leave the church by choice. I am still friends with many of these people, and they respect me too.
Really, Brenda, you were way too nice to that guy. I wish he had just appreciated your comments, instead of being a close-minded jerk about the whole thing. Do you mind if I copy our conversation into a blog?
Talk to you again soon!
Esera
There you go. What would you have said?
Read this conversation I had with someone on facebook (I went to school with
his partner in Moab Utah). Please tell me what I should have said. This
really bothers me. And I can't find anywhere on LDS.org that Homosexuality
is equal to child molestation and murder.
ME: How cute did Keith change his name?
James Martin: No. Keith doesn't facebook and his partner, James's
mormon parents told him he was no longer a "Larsen" so he goes by "Martin"
...
Me: James I am so sorry and that breaks my heart! I am LDS, active,
temple worthy and also the proud parent of a gay son! This is the most un
Christ like behavior I have ever heard! Shame on your parents!!!! May they
be judged as harshly as they have judged you!!!
James Martin: "I'd be interested to know how you can be a temple worthy
Mormon & be a supportive mother of a gay son. This just tells me that you
sustain leaders who compare homosexuality with child molestation and murder
and then give these people money. You couldn't be too proud of your son or
the hypocrisy would drive you mad."
Me: I am sorry you feel that way. But I understand why.
James Martin: "Answered like a true Mormon. It was a real question. I'd
ask again but I'm not sure you understand the question. Good luck."
Me: I am a true Mormon and I do not take offense to it. I understand the
question and I also know that nothing I could say would make you change your
mind about how you feel towards the church. I am not one to debate
anything. Religion and politics on are on top of that list. You don't know
me and I don't know you. You stated your Mormon parents disowned you and I
think that is horrible and sad.
Me again: Sorry Chrissy for taking over your post on facebook. I am going
to delete my comments. James feel free to respond to me directly at
brenda.dickerson@comcast.net.
Brenda
Brenda,
I think your response was awesome! Good for you for sticking up for yourself, the church, and your son, all in one very short conversation, without attacking anyone, or apologizing for your own views. What you told Jeffery was honest, real, and very valid.
Whenever people ask me questions like that, I tend to respond with something like this:
Religion is a practice that enhances a relationship between a person and God. It is a very personal thing to me, my relationship to my Father, and I have strengthened it more by practicing the LDS faith than through any other means. If I support my leaders at church, it's not because of what they believe; it's because of what I believe. I go to church because I feel closer to God there than anywhere else. I love the temple, because God resides there, and I feel it everywhere I go when I'm there. I pay tithing because I'm grateful for the multitude of blessings God gives me daily, and He has only asked for 10% of my income. I have been blessed more than I have given, and I know that money has gone where God wants it to go. I have never given it to someone who was being payed to administer to me, because everyone who has come to my aid has done it of their own, profit-less accord.
Do I believe that there are members of the church who are close-minded, ignorant, or misinformed? Why yes, of course I do, because I've met them. I encounter them constantly, and I even support them at church, and become friends with them. Why? Because God asked me to love all of my neighbors, as I love myself. And you know what? The majority of these people have returned the favor. Some of these people have become my closest friends, and some of my best allies. And a minute number of them have ever suggested that homosexuality and pedophilia are synonymous, let alone murder. I'm sorry if that's been your experience, but it hasn't been mine; I'm very happy being a Mormon, and I think it's obvious. I respect those who are not, or leave the church by choice. I am still friends with many of these people, and they respect me too.
Really, Brenda, you were way too nice to that guy. I wish he had just appreciated your comments, instead of being a close-minded jerk about the whole thing. Do you mind if I copy our conversation into a blog?
Talk to you again soon!
Esera
There you go. What would you have said?
Monday, July 5, 2010
Amazing/Crazy/Fun/Interesting/Awesome Things I've Done/Witnessed/Had Happen To Me For The First/Second/Millionth Time Over The Last 30 Days/Nights
* Offered food to a bum, and had it rejected... twice!* Wrote a song for a boy I liked, and played & sang it to him for his birthday.
* Had a great time on my least favorite holiday.
* Taught a Sunday School lesson where we compared "adultery" to the act of one gardener "fertilizing" the tree of another gardener's. It was hilarious!
* Attended "Hemp Fest" with friends. Left low (that's the opposite of high, right?).
* Even though I couldn't see the bottom of it, I jumped into a lake. P.S. I can't swim...* Also went kayaking. And rowed a boat. And got a swimming lesson.
* And jumped off of a rope-swing. Had a blast at the lake house!
* Learned the Napoleon Dynamite dance so I could teach it to a couple for part of their 1st Dance!
* Shot Roman candles at my brother. Problem is he shot back, and got a couple really great shots at my chest, forehead, and just under my eye. Haha.
* Watched Matt Dillon's 1980 breakout film "My Bodyguard;" it's now in my Top 10 Faves of all time.
* Had my high school Senior Prom picture resurface. My date posted it on Facebook. I'm posting it here. It is now officially immortalized...* Landed a pro gig, performing as a singer! You'll never guess where, either!
* Committed to attending a friend's Wedding reception. I hate weddings, but I love this bride and groom!
* Had two straight guys fight over who was going to take me out on a date first. One of them bribed me by giving me a flexing show, and letting me massage his butt.
* Sat in a crowd of Mormon kids at a hotel swimming pool in just my undies. We played drinking games with Thomas Kemper sodas, and almost got thrown out of the pool area for it. :)
* Went to my first Pride Parade in Seattle. Had a great lunch at Von's, danced in pink booty shorts in the fountain, and got kissed by 10 boys, plus 1 straight guy!* Traded my Coach wallet for a Twilight: Eclipse wallet! Team Edward!
* Fell in love with Fleetwood Mac, Kelly Rowland, Eminem, Rene Clausen, Neil Diamond, Simon & Garfunkel, Jordin Sparks, Passion Pit, Celine Dion, Train, and of course, the Glee Cast.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Yours (JD's Song)
I can't seem to go a single night
Without you crossing my mind
It shouldn't come as a surprise
Baby, I can't lie
I think I've fallen pretty hard
For the way you always roll your "R's"
For the songs you sing to me in the car
For the wonderful man I've met so far
Baby, you're a star
I want you to know I see it...
I see your good, I see your mean
I see it
I see your strong, I see your weak
I see it
And I'm enjoying the view
May I please share this picture with you
I wanna be...
I gotta be...
I need to be...
I wanna be...
If you'll have me...
You, you probably should know the truth
You're beautiful, and super smart, too
I love the crazy things you do
You're too good to be true
Even though sometimes you're strange to me
I love all your OCD's
Like your stupid diet and workout routine
The diva-attitude you give me
You're driving me crazy
But I want you to know I still feel you
I feel your hot, I feel your cold
I feel it
I feel your come, I feel your go
I feel it
And I'm not running away
Baby, I'm here to stay
All you have to say is I'm...
If you ask me to, I'm...
If you feel the same, I'm...
Just say the word, I'm...
If you'll have me...
I love your pearly perfect smile
I love it
Your Mex-Italiano style
I love it
Your freakin hair, your underwear
Your I-don't-care-what-you-think glare
I love it all
All of it
I wanna be...
I gotta be...
I need to be...
If you'll have me...
I'm...
Yours
Without you crossing my mind
It shouldn't come as a surprise
Baby, I can't lie
I think I've fallen pretty hard
For the way you always roll your "R's"
For the songs you sing to me in the car
For the wonderful man I've met so far
Baby, you're a star
I want you to know I see it...
I see your good, I see your mean
I see it
I see your strong, I see your weak
I see it
And I'm enjoying the view
May I please share this picture with you
I wanna be...
I gotta be...
I need to be...
I wanna be...
If you'll have me...
You, you probably should know the truth
You're beautiful, and super smart, too
I love the crazy things you do
You're too good to be true
Even though sometimes you're strange to me
I love all your OCD's
Like your stupid diet and workout routine
The diva-attitude you give me
You're driving me crazy
But I want you to know I still feel you
I feel your hot, I feel your cold
I feel it
I feel your come, I feel your go
I feel it
And I'm not running away
Baby, I'm here to stay
All you have to say is I'm...
If you ask me to, I'm...
If you feel the same, I'm...
Just say the word, I'm...
If you'll have me...
I love your pearly perfect smile
I love it
Your Mex-Italiano style
I love it
Your freakin hair, your underwear
Your I-don't-care-what-you-think glare
I love it all
All of it
I wanna be...
I gotta be...
I need to be...
If you'll have me...
I'm...
Yours
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Heartbreak Warfare
Last week, I went out to a local gay bar to dance and hang out with a couple buddies. We had a really good time, it was nice to get out and just let loose for a night. As the bar closed, we attempted to leave through the main entrance, but I was separated from my friends by a group of black guys that were hitting on me. My pals made their way outside, trying in vain to get me to follow them as I dawdled out of politeness with these strangers. I searched for an excuse to leave them gracefully, when I noticed something amiss happening 15 ft away at the pool tables. A young, heterosexual (I'm assuming from what I saw and was told) jock wound his fist back before swinging forward into the face of an elderly gay man.
I was so shocked. First of all, I don't witness many fights because I don't like them, so I avoid them as best as I can. Secondly, the victim of the punch was an older gentlemen who typically keeps to himself, and normally hangs out to play pool or drink with his buddies. I'd never known him to stir up trouble, not even in a remote way. Third, I couldn't understand how such a punch was allowed to be delivered: there were many people around, including bar staff, and the punch was given in a very obvious fashion.
I quickly withdrew from my new "friends" and made my way over to the injured man. He stood there, shocked, with blood crawling down his face at an increasing rate. While a huge mob of people pushed to get the young punk kid out of the bar, no one rushed to the aid of the bleeding man. I wrapped my arm around him and said, "Let's get you cleaned up. I'm walking you to the bathroom." Due to the shock, he stood in innocent defiance, his frozen legs resisting my gentle tugs. I pushed him again, chiding him towards the bathroom, until his feet finally obeyed my meek commands. Only one other person followed us into the bathroom, a member of the bar staff who was told to get his story and watch him. By the time the three of us reached the sink, I found out his name was Joe, and Joe was lamenting loudly through a recipe of angry tears and confused sobs. I had him sit on the counter and apply pressure to his bloody nose as I tended to his face with soapy towels. My close friend found me, and rushed to get ice for Joe. The bar help talked to Joe in an effort to claim information, and to emit a laugh or two from Joe's pouty lips.
I remember feeling different during this entire episode. I remember a distinct change coming over me as I left the corner of my new suitors, and rushed to aid Joe. I remember listening to him cry about the impossible act of an attack happening to him at a gay bar. I remember the awful sadness in his tone as he recounted the incredulity of such a hateful thing occurring in this place, this sanctuary he entrusted to protect him from just such cruelty. I asked him if there was anyone I should notify, if he had friends there at the bar or family not present that he'd want me to contact. I remember my heart breaking as he replied in the negative, and as he wondered aloud what he would tell his family of this night. As I hugged him, and promised him it'd be okay, I remember feeling like something died in me. And something came alive in me, all at once. What a strange feeling! I don't know quite how to articulate it, except that it is the kind of feeling you only receive when you are thinking entirely of the good fortune of someone other than yourself, and you're able to step outside of yourself and see the world, even if just a glimpse of it, for a glimmering moment. Like God is granting you a piece of clairvoyance that only comes through a stressful experience like Joe's.
More bar staff came to take care of Joe, and asked that I leave with my friends, since the bar was now officially closed. They promised they'd take good care of Joe, and thanked me for being there to help. That night, I prayed that things would be okay for Joe, that he'd make it through the terrible evening, and that someone who really loved Joe would be there for him to help him through the remainder of his sorrows that week. I thanked God that I was given enough quickness of mind to be ready to help Joe, and I asked that if I were ever to be placed in Joe's position, that someone would be there for me.
Last night, I went back to the same bar, and found Joe almost right away. He recognized me immediately, and smiled a huge smile as he waved his open arms towards me. I remember the genuine joy I felt after seeing his face light up, and I was instantly glad I had chosen to stop in. As I studied his face to see how it had healed, Joe said to me, "Thank you so much for last week." And though he had bruised under one eye, and a slight blemish on his nose, Joe looked beautiful and well. He bought me a Diet Coke, and we sipped our drinks with silly grins on our faces, bouncing to the happy beat of a Madonna song.
War is such an ironic thing: it is created in chaos, and flourishes in hate and violence. But when a beautiful bond of friendship is created, and a charitable exchange of service occurs, those are the things that remain long after the last battle. Joe will always be a reminder to me of just that: the wonder of being a survivor.
I was so shocked. First of all, I don't witness many fights because I don't like them, so I avoid them as best as I can. Secondly, the victim of the punch was an older gentlemen who typically keeps to himself, and normally hangs out to play pool or drink with his buddies. I'd never known him to stir up trouble, not even in a remote way. Third, I couldn't understand how such a punch was allowed to be delivered: there were many people around, including bar staff, and the punch was given in a very obvious fashion.
I quickly withdrew from my new "friends" and made my way over to the injured man. He stood there, shocked, with blood crawling down his face at an increasing rate. While a huge mob of people pushed to get the young punk kid out of the bar, no one rushed to the aid of the bleeding man. I wrapped my arm around him and said, "Let's get you cleaned up. I'm walking you to the bathroom." Due to the shock, he stood in innocent defiance, his frozen legs resisting my gentle tugs. I pushed him again, chiding him towards the bathroom, until his feet finally obeyed my meek commands. Only one other person followed us into the bathroom, a member of the bar staff who was told to get his story and watch him. By the time the three of us reached the sink, I found out his name was Joe, and Joe was lamenting loudly through a recipe of angry tears and confused sobs. I had him sit on the counter and apply pressure to his bloody nose as I tended to his face with soapy towels. My close friend found me, and rushed to get ice for Joe. The bar help talked to Joe in an effort to claim information, and to emit a laugh or two from Joe's pouty lips.
I remember feeling different during this entire episode. I remember a distinct change coming over me as I left the corner of my new suitors, and rushed to aid Joe. I remember listening to him cry about the impossible act of an attack happening to him at a gay bar. I remember the awful sadness in his tone as he recounted the incredulity of such a hateful thing occurring in this place, this sanctuary he entrusted to protect him from just such cruelty. I asked him if there was anyone I should notify, if he had friends there at the bar or family not present that he'd want me to contact. I remember my heart breaking as he replied in the negative, and as he wondered aloud what he would tell his family of this night. As I hugged him, and promised him it'd be okay, I remember feeling like something died in me. And something came alive in me, all at once. What a strange feeling! I don't know quite how to articulate it, except that it is the kind of feeling you only receive when you are thinking entirely of the good fortune of someone other than yourself, and you're able to step outside of yourself and see the world, even if just a glimpse of it, for a glimmering moment. Like God is granting you a piece of clairvoyance that only comes through a stressful experience like Joe's.
More bar staff came to take care of Joe, and asked that I leave with my friends, since the bar was now officially closed. They promised they'd take good care of Joe, and thanked me for being there to help. That night, I prayed that things would be okay for Joe, that he'd make it through the terrible evening, and that someone who really loved Joe would be there for him to help him through the remainder of his sorrows that week. I thanked God that I was given enough quickness of mind to be ready to help Joe, and I asked that if I were ever to be placed in Joe's position, that someone would be there for me.
Last night, I went back to the same bar, and found Joe almost right away. He recognized me immediately, and smiled a huge smile as he waved his open arms towards me. I remember the genuine joy I felt after seeing his face light up, and I was instantly glad I had chosen to stop in. As I studied his face to see how it had healed, Joe said to me, "Thank you so much for last week." And though he had bruised under one eye, and a slight blemish on his nose, Joe looked beautiful and well. He bought me a Diet Coke, and we sipped our drinks with silly grins on our faces, bouncing to the happy beat of a Madonna song.
War is such an ironic thing: it is created in chaos, and flourishes in hate and violence. But when a beautiful bond of friendship is created, and a charitable exchange of service occurs, those are the things that remain long after the last battle. Joe will always be a reminder to me of just that: the wonder of being a survivor.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Hiatus
Hey everyone,
I know, I know... I've been gone quite a while. Why, one may ask? Well, there are no real valid reasons, really. The last few posts I made depressed me a little bit, which dropped my morale and motivation for writing more about my life. And my intentions for this blog were the exact opposite when I first created it; I felt like I was being unfruitful at the time.
Now, after coming back and reading through some of these posts, and hearing some of your comments, I'm feeling a little better about myself, and I think I'm ready to return to blogging. Thanks for being so patient. I think I'll write a real blog here within the next couple of days.
I love you all!
-EJ
I know, I know... I've been gone quite a while. Why, one may ask? Well, there are no real valid reasons, really. The last few posts I made depressed me a little bit, which dropped my morale and motivation for writing more about my life. And my intentions for this blog were the exact opposite when I first created it; I felt like I was being unfruitful at the time.
Now, after coming back and reading through some of these posts, and hearing some of your comments, I'm feeling a little better about myself, and I think I'm ready to return to blogging. Thanks for being so patient. I think I'll write a real blog here within the next couple of days.
I love you all!
-EJ
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