The bad news is that I have the flu. The good news is that I have had lots of time to do something that I hardly ever get to do… watch TV. Now for those who know me, you are probably having a hard time picturing me sitting still watching TV for longer than 5 minutes. Chalk it up to 102 fever, I guess, but it is happening. Although I never really take too much time to watch TV unless it is to spend time with someone, I do really enjoy watching documentaries. Over the past 48 hours, I have watched nothing but documentaries.
I thought of starting this post with the title “Case of the Monday’s,” but I think that would be like saying “at the end of the day…” or “the bottom line…” or some over-used buzz word in a business meeting. I curiously ponder how many blog titles might have that entry. Even in my own musings, it seems that the majority of my rants come on a Monday morning. So what is it about Monday?
The answer should be simple and surface, right? Or is it rooted in something much deeper. For me, it is the pulling of the reigns in an attempt to slow the impact that is the clash of my personal life and professional life. It is the place where passion collides with reality. The result, on canvas, is a strange meld that in this moment seems like the sort of painting that is so abstract that few could appreciate or understand the conflict and beauty. Denial exists in a man that anyone could possibly understand the complexity of his inner struggles.
The manifestation is subtle and seemingly all-present. Case and point: last night I picked up an old book that once stirred my soul so much that I never finished it: Wild At Heart by John Eldridge. As I examined the now yellowing pages of this coverless and tattered dark blue hardback, I became aware of my emotions and was caught off guard by why an object, as such, could spark any. The condition of the book connects with me and only I know its history. You see, I carried it around for a long time before shelving it, unfinished. Inside the true identity of the book was never revealed. Hmmm, ten pages in and that familiar stir… My mind wandered in a strange flow of thoughts that ranged from guilt to shame to curious excitement. Why did picking up this book feel wrong, or dangerous? Then I thought of the bible. My favorite bible, is in similar shape only worse on the outside. It almost lies to the casual glance. It is tattered from being carried but not studied. For the last few months, maybe since we moved, the Word has been shelved. Correlation to the Monday’s? Uh… maybe? But, how can I carry this to motivation and not shame? The thirst for the Word has always been there. Only now do I recognize its burning.
So this Monday morning, I woke up anxious again. Trying to draw a bead on the source continues to be difficult. Was it last night’s strange dream? Is it the fear of what I will face at work today? What if I fail? What if someone really knew me? Or is it a sense of urgency to chase the Holy Spirit? Every fiber of me longs to know. If I could get away with skipping work today and burying myself in the Word, I would. But I can’t.
I am restless, unfocused, and confused. Like Paul says, I do the things I hate and I don’t do want I want to do. It is the spiritual tug-of-war for my soul, no, for my heart that is causing this feeling. It is the white-knuckled grip on the safety bar and the exhilaration of letting it go to have your arms flung high as the train exits the loop. Either way, I still end up back at the dock with a ratcheting halt only to jump the ropes, run around the end to get back in line.
Something was different this morning. I cannot place my fingers on definitively what it is or what caused it. It rained all night and there is something about the teeth of a chilly morning when humidity amplifies the bite. Still drizzling, though the heavy rain gone, this morning seemed to have that certain bright gray drudge that births creativity. It is fine line between the types that are dreary and this. But you seem notice and things come into view that you normally look right past. It’s almost like you are watching a screen rather than through your eyes. The morning sounds are crisp and carrying. I am not sure what creates such awareness on mornings such as these. Maybe it was the refresh of gathering with friends like you the night before. But whatever it is, it makes me peak through the door chain at the morning with hope. Hope that today is not going to be like yesterday. Awareness replaces anxiety yet the catalyst is unknown. Song lyrics heard clearly for the first time and tracks that were missed in the “forest and the trees” scenario are uncovered like the proverbial scales from the eyes. For the first time in a long time, pounding hand on steering wheel singing loudly along:
“But plant your hope with good seeds
Don’t cover yourself with thistle and weeds
Rain down, rain down on me” – Mumford & Sons
GOD IS GOOD!
Epic morning mountain bike ride on the Surly Karate Monkey!
Shake-face pictures always seem to chase the funk away! You should try it!
Wow, the weather this weekend was such a contrast: from raining and cold to hot and BEAUTIFUL and back to raining and cold. It’s gross out there again. I am not sure if it is correllated, but the same seems to hold true on my attitude and mood. It makes me wonder when life became so volatile. What happened to us?
Last night I had a dream that was set in the strangest setting (as most dreams are). It was a combination of camp, the Dominican Republic, and high school. All I wanted to do was pursue Rebecca (we were just starting to date in the dream) but was distracted by everything imaginable. Every person and everything in the dream were pulling me away, from jealous friends to activities. It was really wild! The characters in my dream were people from my past but represented other people and things in my life now (so I gathered from analysis of it…). It was really strange, but the things that stood out to me were the most important pieces were my wife and faith (duh…). At least that’s what she told me in the dream when we finally hooked up, she said, “I really admire your faith.” That is so strange to me because faith seems to be the one area I am really struggling right now. Maybe it is trust. Trust that God has a perfect plan and loves me enough to guide me to it. I love the fact that God created dreams. They are so mysterious but so telling some times. I think what I need to do is kidnap Rebecca and get out of town for a week or so.
It’s so simple, really. Funny that I would get that from a wheels off dream, but it woke me up and made me think. Maybe what happened to us is this: complicated.
So last night at Young Life Club we had the first ever Rowlett Pizza Olympics. It was a hit, unlike Jake Glover’s rendition of acoustic “Gansta’s Paradise,” which flopped (only because children of the aughts know little to nothing of the greatness of Coolio). We ordered three pizzas from three delivery places at the same time. Mr. Jim’s pizza set a course record of 23:17.32 and delivered value and size unmatched by the other competitors. Upon entry of the delivery man, we played the Olympic theme and presented the gold medal on a makeshift podium amidst a tearful and emotion filled room to the presentation of the colors and the US National anthem. It was tremendous. A stunning victory for the local favorite. Rounding out silver and bronze was Papa Johns, coming in at 42:18.32 and Pizza Hut at 42:22.32. It was close but the garlic sauce gave the edge for the silver. Epic night, epic pepperoni.
So, facebook, twitter, vimeo et al is killing my blog mojo. Where I used to desire to write long, funny (to me at least) and from the heart, now I am reduced to simple and quick. For the most part, you know me from #FB and my tweets… now what? I paid for this domain and it is wasted: sitting idle with unfinished thoughts, drafts and stale musings.
I thought of making it a photo blog… too much time: another failure.
I thought about making it private and logging my innermost thoughts: realized I really think outloud anyway….
So what to do? No one reads this thing, but they could…
So, we made it back after quite an adventure with taxi transportation, airports and the full meal deal, as they say. My clothes are washed and stuff is put away but now it is time to unpack. I really wish I had more time to journal the events of camp. However, with the internet situation and just the craziness of camp made it difficult. In order to get the videos I had to upload, I had to leave it plugged in at the office for long periods of time and at one point, my poor little mac book ended up locked up for the night.
Wow, time is flying. We have been so busy that I have not had time to update. AND, there is only one spot with internet and it involves disengaging from camp to get to. Anyway, I will have some time later to fill you in on the events leading up to now.
SO, for now, you can see some videos at www.vimeo.com/djdurrett
Here is one from me and Preston when we borrowed a motorcycle and went for a drive in traffic. It was AWESOME! But the battery died on the camera so we missed the best part of us weaving through traffic.
Love you! Laters…