When The Flying J's were preparing for our first full length album, both Jimmy and Julie independently wrote songs called "I'm Alive".  This morning, actually just a few minutes ago, we sang a David Crowder tune, "You Alone", the song culminates in revelry of "I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive..."

One of my favorite books, perhaps the most influential book in my life outside of scripture, is Manalive by G. K. Chesterton.  The book's main character is named Innocent Smith, and his identity, or rather his self declaration, is 'Man found alive with two legs'.  The other characters in the story are baffled, and a good portion of the plot centers around them judging his sanity.

My parents had a Roger Whittaker LP, and when I was a kid I listened to it over and over.  His song, "The First Hello, The Last Goodbye", says

They say the moment that you're born
is when you start to die...

It's not the point of his song, but this morning as we asserted our Beating Hearts, a thought entered my head: Death comes slowly.  Little by little, it creeps and covers.  It grows, it matures. Some call it old age. Bother that. Old age has nothing to do with death.  The Ancient of Days is a wellspring of Life. No, Life is struggle, like a new born infant at odds with the new world, but full of life.  Death is complacency, settlement.  If you're not gathering, then you are scattering.  If you are not actively pursuing Life, then you are Dying.  It's easy to die, we do it all the time.  (I don't mean the sacrificial dying to self; that's more Life than Death anyway.)

"... each one is tempted when he is drawn away by his own desires and enticed. Then when desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, brings forth death."

James 1:15

Labels: life, reflection, thoughts

This is from T.S.Eliot's The Hollow Men.  I was thinking about it last night.  I can't remember why at the moment.

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

I was also thinking about this poem.  I don't think I agree with it, but there is something evocative about it.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Labels: life, poetry, reflection, thoughts

So here's the deal.  I'm in no mood to blog. I want to write, sure, but at this point I feel better off thinking that nobody is reading my swill. I'm angry a lot.  Many people have noted this.  I don't like being angry, but I like being apathetic much, much less.  That's an alternative to anger you know.  Yes, there is Exercise, and I believe in that, I'm an Unpracticing Advocate of exercise.

The problem is that running a business is hard.  I'm not good at it. I'm not good at it. I'm not good at it. I don't think I could go back to regular job though. Scylla and Charybdis.  I'm less patience, generally cranky, and somewhat more crude.  We have to pay some bills on Monday. Let's all stay out of my way.

Now, it is almost entirely my fault.  No denying.  As Pierce Pettis said, "I chose this life as much as it chose me."  I have made the mistake over and over of Not Saying No.  That should really be my default answer.  No. Here's the cinch, good ol' Jim Collins, Good is the enemy of Great.  (Maybe I should be glad that's the first word children seem to learn...)

While writing this, I have suppressed the urge to hit something several times.  Suppressed because I am Cheap and I don't care to have one more thing to spend money on/fix/repair/suck-the-time-and-will-to-live-out-of-me.  Commonly a pillow or the mattress bears the brunt of my explosions (it's hard to hurt a pillow).

This is Stream of Consciousness.  I don't want you to respond.  No comments on this post.  I even hope that you didn't read this far.  I should fall into a Snickety protest explaining how much worse off you'll be reading this.  I just need to channel, purge, whatever the verb of Catharsis is, that too.

Ok, so. God is sovereign. He's in control, but it is His policy to allow us to make our own Choices.  There are Consequences. Consequences. Primarily, in the form of Death and Taxes.  That's a phrase that has ceased to be merely words and now ways on my head with the ponderous solidity of Everest. Seriously, stress/anxiety/overwork equals Death. Attempting to earn a living by running your own business equals Taxes.  Wow.  I just realized how accurate that is.

Again, please, no comments on this post.  If I had a secret blog, this would have ended up there...

Labels: emotions, life, reflection, swill

"... do not let us mistake necessary evils for good. The mistake is easily made. Fruit has to be tinned if it is to be transported and has to lose thereby some of its good qualities. But one meets people who have learned to actually prefer the tinned fruit to the fresh. A sick society must think much about politics, as a sick man must think much about his digestion; to ignore the subject may be fatal cowardice for one as for the other. But if either comes to regard it as the natural food of the mind -if either forgets that we think of such things only in order to be able to think of something else-then what was undertaken for the sake of health has become itself a new and deadly disease."

C. S. Lewis, an essay entitled Membership

It's pretty sad that the last post was at the beginning of the summer break. The sunflowers we had planted in the back yard in April were about six inches high at the time. They are now towing over the neighbors fence and bending their faces toward the ground, pregnant with soft (thanks to the afternoon showers) black seeds. The birds, oddly enough, haven't found them yet.

We've had a great summer. Though I hadn't really thought so or thought about it until I sat down to enumerate it to someone to whom I was writing. We took two weeks of swimming lessons. We went to Disney World for Adah's birthday (with the Walworths, thank goodness!), visited Grandma and Grandpa, Uncle Jason, Aunt Michelle, and Uncle Tim. Spent a week in a cabin with the Mitchells in Blue Ridge, Georgia (had a great time!). Were then lucky enough to visit the Georgia Aquarium. 

It's been fun and laid back and I've enjoyed having Adah at home for the summer. She is such a creative, sweet spirit (despite the bumps of figuring out how a 5 year old should be behaving and thinking). Ranen has been crazy, as usual. His language has been sprouting. We sat down the other night and listed out all of his words and stopped over 30. The next day he had another 2 or 3 to add (keys, grapes, candy).

Adah also received her first bicycle a few days ago and has loved it...is even cycling laps around the garage in the middle of the day (when it's a sauna). Adah will be starting kindergarten in just a few weeks. Another change creeping up on us. 

Christopher has been busy with Blue Spire, and new contracts starting up; luckily some have been closing up in order to have a cleaner plate (less craziness).

Blessings to you as the summer dwindles (though not the heat...).