Personal
January 1, 2006
Two years and two months was Thoreau in his self inflicted cabin in the woods. From that he published and is still read today or I would have little to compare myself with, save Job but I will not blame my current troubles on even Satan knowing my own faults as intimately as I do.
One year is all the sentence that I’ve served in my tin box and nothing have I to show for it. To what end does a person suffer if no understanding is gained from it?
The rain is drizzling thoughtfully against the sides of the camper. It should depress me to hear it so poignantly remind me with every metallic drip echoing off the carpeted and paneled interior that I live in a camper, but it doesn’t. I am warm and dry. While some might think the camper cramped and small I feel snuggled in, cozy. I have what I need. I only have what I need and maybe that’s the point.
I heard the story of Joseph the other day, probably during a sermon, and it was noted that he rose to great heights and fell from them only to rise again several times. God was preparing him. Eventually he did rise in power and was a great help to a nation, to his family and to all of us who read about him all these hundreds of years later. I told my daughter that I also have risen and fallen several times. I meant to assure her that I would once again rise from these poverty stricken ashes but all she said was, “Stop it, don’t fall again. Stop doing whatever you’re doing. Next time you’re on top stay there.” Kids! They always see things so clearly.
It occurred to me today that the real difference between Joseph and me is that he constantly gave God the credit for all he had while and all he accomplished; while I don’t mind taking the credit myself at all.
Two years and two months was Thoreau in his self inflicted cabin in the woods. From that he published and is still read today or I would have little to compare myself with, save Job but I will not blame my current troubles on even Satan knowing my own faults as intimately as I do.
One year is all the sentence that I’ve served in my tin box and nothing have I to show for it. To what end does a person suffer if no understanding is gained from it?
I feel like I’m Anne Frank but I’ve decided to look at the cup as half full and use this as a time of reflection. It’s ludicrous, I know. Spiritually, I’m in an Ecclesiastical quagmire the edges of which are too slick and I cannot pull myself out. Sanity is the only thing that can’t be hawked to pay bills but I seem to be giving it away freely like pumpkin bread at Christmas.
January 17, 2006The rain is drizzling thoughtfully against the sides of the camper. It should depress me to hear it so poignantly remind me with every metallic drip echoing off the carpeted and paneled interior that I live in a camper, but it doesn’t. I am warm and dry. While some might think the camper cramped and small I feel snuggled in, cozy. I have what I need. I only have what I need and maybe that’s the point.
I heard the story of Joseph the other day, probably during a sermon, and it was noted that he rose to great heights and fell from them only to rise again several times. God was preparing him. Eventually he did rise in power and was a great help to a nation, to his family and to all of us who read about him all these hundreds of years later. I told my daughter that I also have risen and fallen several times. I meant to assure her that I would once again rise from these poverty stricken ashes but all she said was, “Stop it, don’t fall again. Stop doing whatever you’re doing. Next time you’re on top stay there.” Kids! They always see things so clearly.
It occurred to me today that the real difference between Joseph and me is that he constantly gave God the credit for all he had while and all he accomplished; while I don’t mind taking the credit myself at all.
