Thursday, December 29, 2005

Companionship and Ohio

I write to you from the second floor of the AmeriHost Inn in Waverly, Ohio. I just turned off the tv. The 30th Anniversary Special of Prairie Home Companion was being replayed on PBS. It was from July of last year. It's been a while since I've written to you, and I'm not quite sure where to begin. I suppose I'll avoid the good news/bad news conundrum and we'll just go in chronological order. To begin with, I'm no longer driving that little Ford two door Escort that I had. Pity, since Kat had just bought me a brand new cd player for it. But, as of December 15th, it was no longer drivable. I was heading the back way toward Halls to get to church, and it had been raining lightly. I went around a curve on McGuinness Rd and skidded into a fellow named Aaron something or other. Tall, kind black fellow who works at a transmission repair shop, I believe. I hit his van at an angle and rebounded off. We were both perfectly fine, and my airbag didn't go off (for which I was thankful), but my car was totalled. Thankfully, we changed the left rear tire on his van after the officer got there, and except for the inability to open the sliding door, his vehicle was alright and he drove on home. Kat headed to Florida and spent some time with her family, which reminded us both why we love being together so much. know the rest.

I sent off my cds to be printed and I sure hope that they come back soon and just the way I want them. God has really blessed me with the ease of this project and of getting started into recording. My musical prospects have also taken other turns recently. I'm playing mandolin and accordion with Karen Reynolds (from Writers Block) and Rick Huemmer (from Worship Werkes) in a band called Sunset Junction. We played our first concert at the Lost Savant on the 18th, and I got seven dollars and a good meal out of it, which, though it may not seem like a lot, is a great deal when it gets handed to you in cash with an excellent Reuben sandwich. It was certainly a blast as well. I hope that things take a turn for the best in this, but I'm a bit impatient with the whole thing. "God is not slow, as some understand slowness." Peter was talking about the second Advent, but I think that the everydayness of God's plan and behind-the-curtain sort of operation is a good application for the phrase as well.

And speaking of the second Advent, I'm hoping (for the sake of not being alone) that some of you have those times when you wish for it as well. I've got that dread in my stomach because I do believe I lost my job today. I work (or, at least, I did work) at Starbucks. Make no mistake, this is a great company to work for, if you can handle the stress and the hours. The stress I can do. The hours are what kills me. When your schedule changes every week and ranges from getting home at three in the morning, to getting up at three in the morning to be at work on time (not consecutively, mind you - they're not so cruel), your body tends not to adjust well. I'm a bit of a night owl anyways, but even getting to sleep early doesn't help sometimes. Couple this with the fact that I live about 50 minutes from work, and I'm somewhat set up to fail. This, of course, is why I wish for the second coming. I think to myself, "If I could be with Christ, all my problems in this regard would be solved." I can hear him chuckling and telling me that's the easy way out. But still, when you get fired, you feel like a failure. At least, I do. And the presence of God is tailor-made for us failures. Us misfits. The cogs that don't quite slide in like they're supposed to. I just wish sometimes that I was more in tune to that deep knowing of his imminence.

The second coming though, reminds me of what Andy P was saying about being a little upset by the verse where Jesus told the Pharisees that there would be no marriage in heaven. He and his wife, Jaimee (I have no idea how to spell her name) felt that they'd be a little short-changed by not getting to be with each other in a marriage relationship. Now, me being the great and powerful Oz that I am, I thought, "Well, little man, you don't realize that we'll all be one. We won't need marriage, because we'll be in the presence of the One." But, I do believe I'm a humbug for that. And now, especially after Kat's trip to Florida, I appreciate a little more the time I get to spend with her, and I'd rather be a poor and happily married man, than a rich bachelor with an empty bed and a tv for company. All told though, Prairie Home Companion was good company tonight - certainly along with Kat - and listening to Garrison talk quietly and watching his graceful nerdy manner was good medicine to an uncertain heart. So, here I sit in Ohio, not knowing the future. I'm scared to death, and God is a wild man. Life is good.


and Anonymous Anonymous addressed the Senate...

You know, I got fired from a job at a car dealership in the spring of '03. I was in charge of answering phones, but I had a sleep disorder that had not been treated yet. So, I was, um, not exactly catching everything. But I'm also a terrible perfectionist and I felt like a failure.

It ended up being the catalyst for a much better job. I had better hours and better wages. And it was the catalyst also for me getting something that was actually in the realm of my calling. Getting fired was one of those good things that doesn't seem so good at the time. Perhaps you will have a similar experience! ;)


8:13 PM, January 01, 2006  

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