QQ XIV

I fully expected to hear PB say that the shortest distance between a problem and a solution is a straight line, but he said it's from your knees to the floor. Simple, yet profound.

McCain didn't even look at Obama during the debates, and often took a condescending tone by repeating, "You just don't understand." He never offered a solution, and filled the debate with Republican rhetoric and personal stories. His refusal to acknowledge another point of view worries me when it comes to negotiating with other countries given our standing in the world.

If you've not seen Miracle at St. Anna's, let me be the first to recommend it. There are scenes that make you wish there was a pause button; it hits you so hard, you'd need a moment to absorb what you've just witnessed. This movie emphasized the words of Langston Hughes, "I, too, am America."
http://movies.yahoo.com/movie/1809947151/video/9776132

Music is the therapy my soul needs to flourish. I spent some time playing music with a friend yesterday - how truly, truly talented she is, and how beautiful the music she was able to play.

I will never forget the words I heard my pastor say to me yesterday, "Above anything else Will, we're your friends." After all these years, that's never been in doubt, but it feels good to know that it remains that way.

Sometimes I envy parents; when I arrived at church yesterday, two of the cutest little kids I've ever seen ran up shouting, "Good morning Uncle Will." Children truly are a gift from God.

I could read Obama's biography, but I'd like to hear more about who he is. I found him refreshing and his Vice-Presidential running mate instills a lot more confidence than does Palin.

Talking Too Much

When I was growing up, I'd often get in trouble in school for one primary reason, my mouth. It seemed that I was never lacking in the ability to share my opinion. My opinion, although truly my own, was not always welcome or warranted. It wasn't until I got older did I begin to have a feeling that I should cater my words to not offend others. The same mouth that produces words that yield blessings can also be used to dole out curses were words my father would ask me to ponder when I had to explain my latest rift with a teacher.

This brings me to wondering what is takes to have a quiet spirit, to have a persona that doesn't get rattled easily and looks to admonish others rather than to punish them. I look at my peers, my mentors, and those that are coming up under me and wonder if I am what I know I should be and if I'll ever realize what I know I can be. I feel like talent without application is a waste; the same words that put me in the principal's office as a child, or makes my friends feel uncomfortable when I begin a rant, may need to be polished to reflect what it's my heart's desire to share. I've always liked hearing people share what they remember most and love most about loved ones; I pray that the words that I speak and that I write will be remembered for the positive impact they imprinted on others rather than the inverse.

QQ XIII

The great thing about having friends that know about who you are, where you've been and what you're good it is that you come realize that they care when you don't act like the person they know you are or find you when you aren't where you're supposed to be and encourage you to pursue what you're most passionate about. A good friend will value you; yesterday my friends made me feel valuable. I regretted that I hadn't spent as much time with them as I should have.

It is easy to sulk about a problem than it is to work towards solving them.

I wonder if dreams have any value considering how many people I've known who abandon them. I believe their value is based on context; coins in the pocket of a vagrant have more meaning than if they were in Donald Trump's pockets. Both value the dollar, but what they have already amassed will determine their value.

I've had the kind of work week that makes me yearn for 5pm; I'm blessed that I can say that I had a hard week, and even more blessed to know that God has provided me with a means of employment.

I was implored to live where I wasn't afraid to let tears fall; I laughed at the advice, but was moved that it was mentioned as a remedy. It reminded me of the first stanza of a Maya Angelou poem called Tears:

Tears
The crystal rags
Viscous tatters
of a worn-through soul.

I Thought it was Funny

...when I bought some new sunglasses, that I thought were cool. I put them on and shortly thereafter the side of my head began to hurt. A few minutes later and no light could make it's way in...I thought that was the point, anyway after telling someone that their clothing reminded me of a Michael Jackson video she responded with, "Those glasses look good, but don't sit on your nose. You should take them back." Retribution, payback, gotcha, were all looks in her eyes when she walked away with enough pep in her step to flavor a stale rice cake.

When my friend showed up, I said "Hi Sandeep, what's your brother's name, Moonshallow?"

QQ XII

...when my actions are stupid, they hardly take God by surprise.
-Langston Hughes

QQ XI

Having "a lot on your mind" is no excuse for being an asshole.

It doesn't take much for people to want to give up on you. It's even easier when you give them a reason to.

The best advice is rarely the common practice of the advisor.

Perception may not be the truth, but it is somebody's reality.

QQ X

It amuses me to realize that I, as a man take something away from a conversation that is completely different from what was actually said believing that what I took away from the conversation was what was said only to realize that women know what they said and men only know what they heard.

Somebody told me this week that I do the right thing out of an obligation to what I think "Christians" should do. One day I'll do more things right because I want to, not because I feel like I have to.

Friends make family seem closer.

A lot of money gets tied up in possessions; seems our identities are within the ropes too.

Having something on your mind doesn't mean it needs to come from your lips; nobody tells people with big ears that they listen well, but regardless the size of someone's lips, some people will say that this person and that person talk too much...I have no idea what I'm saying here.

Dreams remain an item that produces fruit as long as you nurture them.

QQ IX

I spent some time listening to the radio yesterday; I think it's sad, but ironic that I heard one statement repeatedly - people were afraid to completely trust in a vote for McCain because should he die, Palin would be their only alternative.

I love this parody from SNL (Tina Fey as Palin, and Amy Poehler as Clinton):

http://popwatch.ew.com/popwatch/index_page5.html

To paraphrase a section of a book I'm reading, Coelho reminded me to:

Take a chance and plunge in; the answer is only found at the end of the journey. There is anxiety in making a decision, even Christ sweated blood at a decision that was in front of him.

During Small Group last night, a friend of mine said something that I'd never thought of (that sounds a bit arrogant huh, like I've thought of everything, anyway...), the tactic of the enemy is to question your identity. If he can make you doubt who you are, what you know and what you believe, it won't be long before you begin to doubt whose you are. As Pastor Steve would say, "Good stuff."

QQ VIII

Good friends make for good company and even better memories.

Is it me or is it harder to forgive those that are closest to you? I think it's because they're the ones who have opinions that matter.

When I was younger I used to say, "I'll take care of that later," now that I'm older, I've realized that later is right now.

I've learned that everything from ministry, careers and education are all about production; doing more with less.

Nobody wants to hear excuses when they're waiting on a result; why aren't excuses legitimate reasons for incomplete tasks? I sometimes feel that an excuse is a gauge - maybe it just wasn't important.

We should relish and take the opportunity to enjoy the freedoms being an American affords us. People are being persecuted all over the world for their beliefs. Every time I hear a story of Christian martyrdom, genocide, famine, natural disasters, terrorist attacks, slavery - one life at a time needs to be touched by love.

I agree when PB said that everyone should have our respect, but it's up to them whether or not they keep it.

If you run away from a fire and move to a place to where you don't see it burning, you'll find that it'll continue burning whether you're there or not. Running away from problems doesn't do anything to solve them; there's just more to clean up when you return.

If time heals all wounds, how much more time do I need?

My friends bible doesn't crinkle when you turn the pages. Highlighter marks have bled through to the next page. Notes fill the white space once left on the page. Her purses are measured by their capacity to hold it...

I've said it before that prayer shouldn't be the last option, it should be the first option. Prayer is not an excuse for apathy.

Good Times at Petco

I had a lot of fun with my friends yesterday. The adventure started at about 4:30 and continued to about 11; can you believe that I stayed up that late? The company made it worth it. We piled into my car and immediately began our journey to the home of the Padres, Petco Park. After driving around in circles, we found a parking space. Did anybody bring cash for the parking; oh, thanks K for picking up the tab! We made our way inside and I stopped to look at the map. I'm the guy, who goes to the ballpark, I know my way around. Not so fast! While I'm staring at the map, my friends, let by K had already sojourned far enough in front of me that I'm glad I have a long stride as it was necessary to catch up. We made our way to the rooftop and there was tons of free food. We found a small table and chatted a bit. It wasn't long before the favorite food of the night was discovered and attacked live ravenous wolves in the Arctic; I placed chips, cheese and jalapenos all over the plate. Hmmm, so good, that is until the cookies made their way out. I heard, "Agh, cookies! I want chocolate chip...Oooh, I like the ones that are burnt or crispy on the sides...can I have that one...Awgh they're not hot;" notice I said nothing. I was too busy smashing the cookies.

Game time was approaching; we listened intently as L's favorite part of the national anthem was belting through the ballpark speakers. Her face said, "Egh, that was ok;" the singer didn't have that "It" that leaves memories or goose bumps. I made my way over to the Western Metal Supply Building rooftop to start watching the game, my company decided to go for a walk - to look around. I thought, "You're going for a walk, but what about the game?!" They left, happy as kids on the verge of summer break. I stayed, drank my soda, and watched Peavy get to work. That's when she slipped up beside me, put her plate down looked up at me and smiled. I took the initiative to start a conversation; why not, I said to myself. We began talking about how much she likes the view, that she likes the Tigers and the Pistons and wished they would have beat the Celtics. Baseball is fun, but her favorite sport is basketball; she can't get enough of it. My heartbeat quickened, and I thought, "I've got to keep talking to this one." She was tall; blond hair, beautiful smile and big green eyes that looked like they were full of questions. We talked a bit more, I met her friend, and then my friends returned. She didn't have much to say after that; maybe that was for the best.

We made our way to our seats, and the game started to take on it's identity. The Padres had average pitching; left runners stranded and made errors that resulted in the game being tied 2-2. Right in front of us, some kids returned with miniature Padres helmets full of ice cream. All of us looked at them, then looked at each other, then looked back at them. The decision was made; K and L got up and invited Sheba to walk with them. She declined, instead taking the opportunity to chill with me and ask questions about baseball and what the rules were. I learned how similar it is to Cricket, which is played in India. Prior to K and L leaving, Sheba indicated that she didn't want anything, and I asked for vanilla. We went back to watching the game and K and L made their way down the bleachers and around the corner on a mission to return with ice cream...or so we thought.

I missed Adrian Gonzalez's home run as I was chatting with Sheba, then I missed a couple of other plays. Thank goodness our view of the jumbo-tron wasn't obstructed as I was able to catch the replays. The 4th inning finished and the kids were nearing the bottom of their helmets. Sheba and I kept chatting into the 5th, then the 6th inning. I yearned to have my bowl of ice cream and asked Sheba what was taking so long. She indicated that she didn't know. The kids turned around and said, "Are you guys waiting on those girls who left to get the ice cream." I said, "Yeah, we are," leaning up I asked, "What do you think is taking them so long?" The kids replied, "They should be back by now." Maybe something happened, or did K and L meet a 'cute' guy as they say by bumping into them and they were caught up in an enthralling conversation. "Sheba, give them a call. I'm beginning to get worried."

She picked up the phone, and I listened intently, "Hello...where are you guys...oh (laughter)...Will wants to know when you're getting back with the ice cream...yeah...you didn't...(giggles)...doing what...you're in a store...shopping." Ten minutes later K and L walked around the corner content and without the one thing I'd been waiting 3 innings for...ICE CREAM. I was flabbergasted, they left with the sole intent of buying ice cream and succumbed to, were overwhelmed by, an innate desire to shop...at the baseball game...when they were going for ice cream, the shared their dismay, "They only had Padres stuff." "Imagine that," I said, while I was shaking my head and beginning to chuckle - this would only happen with K and L. I got up and came back with a bowl of...you guessed it...ice cream. K asked, "Where'd you get that?" I got it right around the corner. Good times.

We made our way back to the car; walking fast, walking slow, talking smack to cross guards with guns. K said, "Why are you in a hurry when there are only 24,000 people here?" I didn't get that one. We got in the car and it wasn't long before we picked up our previous conversation; politics. We were all a bit passionate as we shared our views and our opinions. It was my kind of night; great conversation, free food, an amazing baseball game, and great company. I can't wait until we can do it again.

QQ VII

Somebody stole my idea yesterday; I guess it's a compliment to how good it was.

I saw a girl who made me want to break out in an Usher song, "You remind me of a girl...that I...once knew."

Who has the moxie to oppose Kim Jong, Dmitry Medvedev, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, the economy, education, social security, lending practices, Iraq, Afghanistan, Bin Laden - I can tell you who I don't think has what it takes, unless there's a retirement home and polar bears in the White House? To quote the iconic representative of greed Gordon Gekko from 1987's Wall Street, "The most valuable commodity I know of is information." With that, make an informed decision when you go to the polls.

I'm addicted to making smoothies and protein shakes now that I've purchased a blender.

Elixir acoustic guitar strings are the way to go; they're nice. Thank you my friend for recommending them.

A good friend of mine had a nice quote, "Laughter is the shortest distance between two people," there isn't much distance when we hang out - she makes me laugh.

It is nice when somebody believes in you, it would be even nicer if I could believe in myself the same way.

I get frustrated with monotany, but feel uncomfortable without it.

I try not to complain about having to go to work; it beats the alternative any day.

This for That

I read a quote in a book yesterday that I wished I'd thought of, it said, "Even a stopped clock is right twice a day (Coelho 77);" there is always something can be learned from our failures. It is in our failures that we come to know success. It is through sin that we know the power of forgiveness. Because of our pride, we learn the power of humility. It is through judgment and condemnation that we learn the power of grace. It seems it takes a little bit of this to make us know a little bit of that - figuratively speaking of course.

My dad used to say a coward is a man who retreats in the face of fear; courage is the man who sees fear, recognizes fear, is full of fear, but acts anyway. Chasing dreams is bigger than wishing upon falling stars or hoping, really hoping it'll come to be. I believe it requires a bit of courage.

God's Arms

On Sunday, I was standing in the back of church. The sun was beating down on my back and I could feel the perspiration beading up on the back of my head. I decided to step further inside to hide underneath the shade. The fan was oscillating slowly and I looked down. There was my brother and his wife; she was sitting, her legs out in front of her and leaning back in her chair. She moved forward to make sure her long hair fell over the back of the chair instead of it being between her and the chair. He placed his hand on her shoulder and would occasionally lean down and give his sleeping daughter a kiss. She was resting on her mother's chest, sleeping; angelically serene in the security of her mother's love. I looked down and grinned, how beautiful is she? I saw her eyes begin to ease a little to the left, and then to the right. She moved her mouth like she was beginning to taste the heat in the air. Her eyes opened. She looked right at me. They were bright, it was like light escaping from a dark room. Her little hands moved from her mother's hip and she raised them slowly. She kept staring, then she waved, gave me a small smile, and descending back into the heaven that was awaiting her in her mother's arms. I wondered what it was like there - being in a place of peace and comfort. Do I rest in God's arms like that, or do I desire to remain standing in the heat?

Yep, I Had to...Turn the Page

Do you ever feel like everything just stands still; it doesn't matter how much you move, or what new hobbies you pick up - nothing changes and everything remains still. Silent. Empty. Vast. Full of Potential. Unrealized potential is nothing more than a waste of time. I had serene dreams; seeing her face, I had a hope that I'd one day stand in front of a large ominous group of onlookers; their mouths were open. Aghast, they closed their mouths to then only shake their heads. My dreams didn't belong at their table.

A Bad, Funny, Joke!?

As I was driving home yesterday, I made a phone call. I listened to the warm greeting on the other end. I smiled. I had a great joke to share. I provided a brief synopsis of the scenario in which it was employed. I delved in, with great enthusiasm and said, "If you notice my voice shaking...it's because my vocal chords are cold." I waited for an outburst of laughter. I put my phone on speaker. I turned it up. I listened closer. Nothing. I believe the silence on the other end to be an accurate recording of it's merit. Finally, after about three seconds, which felt like an hour as I was bursting at the seams, cheeks hurting from smiling, eyes watered enough to blind me, I heard, "hmmm, that was...ok." I was like no, they can't be serious. I told everyone else about the joke; no one else laughed. My Pastor smiled, shook his head and ate another piece of sushi, my roommate chose to continue practicing his scales, the Sandman laughed; he thought it sucked. Oh, I heard something else that made me laugh, a friend said, "You waited to tell the worst joke of your life at that moment..." I think I have some work to do.

Truth Hurts

The scariest thing about being loved is being known, being understood, and being vulnerable. Somebody told me some truths about myself yesterday. As the elevator beeped with each passing floor, there was an elephantine word that smothered the air, slowed my heart, and made my eyes wish for dryness. My first thought was to dismiss the word, to say I don't care, but I'd be lying. It was said because I needed to hear it, my regret won't change yesterday, but my acquiescence changes today.

How often have you asked...

http://ihasahotdog.com/

I know I ask myself that often. I even like to make jokes but realized everything isn't funny. As they were sitting at the table, my friends and I had a discussion. I busied myself with washing dirty dishes; as unclear as the dishes in my hand, my mind needed purging as well! I asked the value of our faith? What are we operating in if our faith isn't rewarded with action? Do we truly have faith, if our lives reflect our abstaining from it's application? Does it then mean that we have a knowledge of our faith or does belief, true belief require application and a commitment to the discipline required for it to operate?

Is curiosity always rewarded? Is there harm in asking questions? Why do people withhold the truth in fear of hurting the other person's feelings? Is it better to lie sometimes? Why does the truth hurt? I'd like to hear the answer to those questions, or rather continue trying to discover them. Sometimes I wish for a cool breeze, a comfortable pair of slacks, a buttoned down shirt in a solid color, a nice summer cap with a nauseating cigar and a cold beverage, my legs crossed, my loafers resting comfortably atop my feet, my ankles basking in sunlight and sunglasses tinting my vision in hopes for light, in hope for truth, in hope for conversation. I've heard lies, presented as truth. I wonder if the teller knew that I knew that what they were telling me wasn't what I'd come to know? The inverse must be apparent - if they knew that I knew what I'd inquired about in hopes to know, they may have answered the question with a question, "Why do you want to know?" I have a feeling that, "Just because," won't be a good answer.

Post It

It was sometime during the past few weeks; I pulled out the yellow post it pad and wrote down my phone number. I handed it to her and with a smile made comment that it would be nice to hear from her. I waited. By the phone mind you. I continued to wait. I wanted to say, "I'm the one you're not looking for" (Marquez 87). I saw someone else, during those few weeks. I made comment that I liked her and wanted her to be mine. She responded with the question, what would happen if I said yes. Pondering her statement, I turned my head, sat down and waited by the phone. If I see her tomorrow and she says hello, I'll try hard not to wish for her saying good morning; greeting me like brightness piercing a slit in a curtain or for a yearning good night to admonish my rest like a hooting owl welcomes darkness. How tormenting the idea of love; we all wait in line to have our cups filled with what we think we need. I refuse to daydream when her perfume reaches my nostrils, I refuse to hope when my eyes force darkness but her face is there welcoming me with light. I will pack my dreams inside a bottle, and place my wishes on fragments of paper. I'll seal it tight, no other dreams can go inside, and place it in Destiny's hand. It's hard to imagine her role when I've had communion with Faith; do they both disappoint?