New Year Thoughts

Greetings and Happy New Year, Planet Earth!

So is it, as Aughra said in The Dark Crystal, the end or the beginning? 

 “End, begin…all the same,” she said.  “Big change; sometimes good, sometimes bad.”  

 I’m quite fond of that film.  From studying the DVD, I learned that Jim Henson and his company built the world before building the story.   Likewise, C.S. Lewis had the character Mr. Tumnus in his head since he was a teenager, but he didn’t write The Chronicles of Narnia until he was in his 50’s.  

Perhaps creating-writing, drawing, painting, maybe even dancing is often like that; starting in pieces, I mean.  You could call it putting together a puzzle, but I liken it to archeology, which some of you might have heard me mention before.  You have a sense of something there that’s very big, but you only start with a fragment.  You have to brush the dust off the rest and then assemble what you have until it makes sense.  Sometimes you find two or three different things buried in the dirt, but until you polish it and figure out what goes where, you only find a mess.

The bulk of my life was spent on puzzling out where I fit-that is, what should my life be all about?  I know I’m not the only one.  Many people seem to have this sort of sense of being lost.  I know I’ve also written about that before.  Well, I think I have at least part of it figured out now.

2012 was quite a whirlwind for me.  When I wrote that it might be a jalapeño of a year-that is, if variety is the spice of life, then it must be a pretty spicy year, I had no idea how accurate I was going to be.  If I had to sum up the year in one word, it would be this one: Discipline.  I’ll elaborate more on that later.

A few years ago, I read a book on personality types, and it broke down what ideal jobs might be and so on.  I really wish I could remember the book title, but I’d had to sell it at one point.  (Suffice to say Oprah had touted it.)  I had already known I was a creative person-no surprise there-but I’d always thought I was an advisor type.  While that was close, I found out I was wrong.  I am actually a teacher by nature.  When I discovered that, it made so much sense.  Perhaps those of you who know me are shaking your heads and muttering, “Well, DUH!” to yourselves.  I can honestly say it was a revelation for me.  I had a real paradigm shift.  Here’s the difference between a teacher and advisor: I don’t so much like telling people what to do, but I love, I revel in seeing people ‘get it.’  When their eyes light up in realization, when they understand, and learn from their mistakes and thus correct themselves-I love that!  Of course, that applies to me as well.

Obviously, I’m not the type of teacher that stands in a classroom, but truth be told, sometimes the best teachers are the ones you find in life, and I think this-teaching people to ‘get it,’  whatever ‘it’ is, might be what I really want to do with my life.  I think I must do this, and find a way to do it creatively.  I want to help others along the journey of life, and thus have them help others, too.

Why on earth did it take me so long to figure out something I’d already kind of wanted when I was a teenager?  (My original job choice was to be a counselor to help people through their problems.  My thinking had been in the right direction, at least.)  It turns out that the depression, the apathy, and my own selfish nature had been suppressing what I knew was there but couldn’t articulate.  You can’t help others if you’re only thinking of what’s in it for you.  Also, as I’d written before, I’d grown up in a world where “No” was so common, I’d forgotten “Yes” was a true and valid answer.

To be a teacher is to also be a leader of sorts, and before now, I’d never thought of myself as one.  In fact, the mere thought of being in charge of anything absolutely terrified me.  I’d lost work for that very reason.    Before, I didn’t accept it or take it seriously as I should have.  I’d groomed myself for failure-self-sabotage, perfectionism, etc.  I was genuinely afraid of people relying on me, so much so that I’d subconsciously become unreliable so I wouldn’t fail later.  That’s messed up thinking but it took me years to figure out I was doing that.  

Even so, after I realized what I was doing, I didn’t know how to stop myself…because surely I couldn’t be in charge…could I?  It’s amazing what you can learn when you force yourself to learn it.  As the year came to a close I got a full-time position as a senior guard for a new contract in a town called Jefferson.  Senior Guard basically means I’m in charge of all of the paperwork; I talk to the contact at the job site about any issues, etc.  I knew what the position meant and made myself take it seriously.  Guess what?  It’s made me a better person.  Nothing else has changed: the pay is still crappy, the hours are still long and mostly empty, and I’d missed the sign-up date for full benefits by mere days.  I’ll have to wait until much later this coming New Year.  And yet, I’m a better person, because I’m forcing myself to change my thinking.

So, Discipline is going to be my word for quite a while, especially now that I know what I need to do.  Perhaps this year, and maybe all these years of false starts and me almost getting it but not quite, was all about discipline-the forge.  Discipline hurts but it is so absolutely vital.  I wouldn’t be who I am if God hadn’t disciplined me.  Discipline isn’t punishment necessarily, but correction, or really redirection.  The old saying goes that when the student is ready, the teacher will appear.  I hope I am ready now.  If not, please throw me back into the forge and beat me until I am.

 
Happy New Year.

Running Out of Nose-A Holiday Rant

They say that to succeed in life, you must put your nose to the grindstone…but what happens when you run out of nose?  I’m thinking about that today because I’m tired.   I can feel the holiday rush roaring in like an oncoming freight train.  This freight is loaded with the usual impossible expectations and rabble of “Buy Me!”  “Buy this!”  “Buy that!”  “Your Must-Haves!”  “My Favorite Things!”  (Sorry, Oprah…it’s nothing personal.)

I’m so tired of the media blather.  I feel like the social media is doing nothing but vomiting useless junk all over me, and it’s always worse this time of year.  I’m tired of seeing commercials that seem to be as long as or longer than the segments of whatever program I’m trying to watch.  I’m tired of being told you have to present yourself as a product or a brand.  Me, be the next big thing?  Sure, I see the logic, but then again, I am not some kitschy little trinket!  I’m not just a vessel to be bought or sold.  What is prostitution then, if it isn’t selling yourself?  If you are whoring yourself, sex doesn’t have to be a factor at all.

Individualism.  Independence.  I used to think these were priceless…but now, I don’t know… 

Everything screams, “Me! Me! Me!”  What about “Us! Us! Us!”?  What is wrong with depending on each other?  What’s wrong with wanting, even needing someone to lean on?  Are we really so afraid to be soft, to be vulnerable?  Vulnerability doesn’t necessarily mean weakness.  It just means someone can reach you deep inside, and that doesn’t have to be bad.  There’s nothing wrong with wearing armor if you know you’re going into battle.  But I don’t want to battle all day, every day.  I’m sure some do, and some even revel in it.  Not me.  Sometimes true strength is people unafraid to show that they are afraid.  

I don’t feel there’s anything wrong with expressing yourself, but the problem I see is that lately, everyone is expressing themselves all at the same time.  You may have noticed it too, especially on the Internet with blogs and vlogs and tweets and Facebook updates every ten minutes.  In fact, there’s a push, an expectation to know and express yourself, loud and proud.  

I see a few problems with that.  First of all, when everyone is so busy expressing, who’s left to listen?  No one!  And second, do we really need to know every last detail of what makes us tick?  I studied psychology, so I do enjoy crawling around inside of people’s heads, and I like reading novels that are written in first person.  However, crawl inside yourself for too long, and you might just lose yourself…in your self.  Now, if you need to figure out why you do what you do in order to change and stop doing what you’ve done (I’ll wait while you try to wrap around that) that’s great.  I’ve said it before-there’s nothing wrong with self-improvement if you genuinely need help.  It’s terrific if what you find ends up helping others.  Still, focusing so much on your self can mean losing sight of the bigger and often more important picture.  If you are there alone, with no one to share your discoveries, what’s the point, really?

It seems to me that many people have really lost the strength and support of a very powerful word-Community.  I’m finding bits and pieces of it at two of the three places I currently work.  (The third place, as a guard, I usually work alone. Oh, there are times we work as teams, but most contracts ask for one guard at one location.)

At Kraft, where my job title is Sensory Panelist (a fancy term for professional taste tester) I work in an unbiased, group format.  We work together to present our findings of freshness and aroma/flavor intensity.  (Trust me; it’s not as glamorous as it sounds. I’ll save that story for another day.)

Now, at Family Christian Store, where I work as a retail Sales Partner, I see the concept of Community the strongest.  Despite the different denominations that come in and out of the store, the message of Community rings clear.  I think that really, the only reason is because the concept of Christian community, or Fellowship, as we call it, goes all the way back to Scripture.  Jesus Christ said, “Where two or three are gathered in My Name, there I am with them.”  Christians were and are encouraged to not only worship together, but to help each other when troubles come, as they always must in this world.

 

Some of this stuff coming next might sound a little ‘out there’ to you, so let me first explain that I’m a WELS Lutheran (Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod.)  Part of what that means is that I believe Scriptures are real, and the Bible is the true Word of God.  That means Adam and Eve were real people, that there was a worldwide flood, etc.

If independence was such a grand thing, then I don’t think God would have said, “It’s not good for man to be alone.” Those words were spoken all the way back at the beginning.  That doesn’t mean Adam wasn’t fully capable, and it doesn’t mean Eve was somehow a lesser person.  They were both perfect, but they were even better when united.  Of course, they also managed to screw up as a unit, but only because they chose to be independent from God.  Eve wanted to be like God, so pride was her downfall.  As for Adam…for some reason I keep having this romantic notion that he didn’t want to be separated from her, so he joined in…and only then did he fully know the depth of what they had done.  Maybe that’s why he tried to blame God and said “This woman you put with me here…”  Maybe it didn’t happen that way, but then I also think the forbidden fruit was a lemon or a grapefruit instead of the ever-popular apple…who thought that up, anyway?

As you might imagine, the concept of independence removed is very tough to picture, especially for me as an American.  We fought and died for this independence and we’ve prided ourselves on it.  But we’re not really free, are we?  We’re slaves to debt, and that includes the National Debt, so we’re slaves to our jobs, whether we love or hate them.  We’re slaves of spin doctors and pundits and anyone in the media telling us what to think.  We’re slave to our government as it seems to swell and free enterprise seems to shrink.  With all of that, independent thought is really a lie, an illusion.  Now, why do we look to others, to social networking, to magazines?  What are we trying so hard to fill with things…only things will never fill it?

I believe the answer is Community…and not just with each other, but with God as well.  Here’s the funny thing: God has no expectations.  What a weird thought!  I rejected that idea too, at first, but then I thought about it.  Why would God expect us to perform?  We’re not trained pets!  God did all the work.  God even became human to save us, and at the same time, help us relate to Him better.  That redemption means He chose mercy rather than justice when it comes to us.  He doesn’t just want the best parts of us, He wants all of us.  He’s not mad, either…He just misses us.  I think we all miss Him too.  Many just don’t realize what that void is inside of us that cries out for attention.   We all know it’s there.  We all know it shouldn’t be, that there’s a wrongness about it.  We’ve seen what happens when that void becomes overwhelming and people do what they can to fill it up. They smoke, abuse alcohol or drugs, use sex, or shop too much.  They overeat or starve themselves, all in a valiant but vain effort to be happy and satisfied.  But we all know that stuff is meaningless.

Does He get frustrated?  Of course, but what loving parent wouldn’t? If you knew your child stole or lied or hurt someone, would you be proud of him?  Doing the right thing and following God’s rules is supposed to be our expression of love for God.  It’s not about “Do this or else!”  That’s not how it works.  Even Christians forget that sometimes.  I know I have.  It’s not about doing our best, because that’s the same thing as being good enough, and we know already that we’re never going to be good enough, because outside of God, perfection is impossible.  That’s okay, because God loves us anyway, and is happy when we express our love for Him.

Does this mean that we ought to be slaves, to be doormats for everybody, that we shouldn’t stand on our own?  That’s not the same thing at all.  People who are doormats tend allow those who need to control abuse them.  They need help, so they can help others.  And I’m not talking about submission, either.   To be submissive doesn’t have to mean you’re weak or your opinion isn’t valid.  This might be an easier concept for women to grasp because we like feeling secure and safe.  Women are more naturally inclined to be inter-dependent and have a small community of friends or family around them.  (After all, ever see a group of guys suddenly vanish to go to the restroom?)

The old saying goes, “It takes a village to raise a child.”  Nowadays the village is being substituted by TV, Facebook, YouTube and Angry Birds.  Nothing wrong with these things and I’m not mad at them for existing.  Yet I believe that if we don’t start resurrecting the purpose and the power of Community-and by that I mean a group of people, face-to-face, then we all may end up having all kinds of neat things, but no one to share them with.  We may become like Narnia’s Mr. Tumnus, who was carrying packages in the dead of winter…with no one to give them to. 

Start by saying hi to your neighbor.  Join a group-away from the computer.  Share with them your stories, your gifts, your self. 

As it says in Scripture, “A cord of three strands is not easily broken.” 

It's All About Me...NOT.

It’s All About Me…Not.

Well…I’ve had quite a rollercoaster of a month and a half or so.  As the season is finally starting to change again, it reminds me that, outside of God, very few things in this world remain the same for long.  Yet things stay the same, even as they are in a constant state of transition.  People grow older, like my 3-yr old niece, who is starting preschool already, people grow frail, like my great aunt, whose Alzheimer’s is steadily worsening, and people die, like my cousin, who finally lost her battle with a rare cancer, just days before her 36^th birthday.  It’s sad, but the beat goes on, as the song says, and big changes often comes in three’s, or at least they do for me.

Speaking of birthdays, I recently turned 36 myself.    It was probably one of the most uneventful birthdays I’ve ever had.  I had to work overnight, which is a blessing to me because my hours at all three jobs were chopped.  It really sucks to know you are so old and yet are unable to live independently.  Tonight I’m at the same place, an apartment complex called The Statesider.  It houses UW students-mostly freshmen.  It's interesting, and everyone usually behaves themselves, or at least they do so far.

Still, I’m finding I’m learning a lot, and always from various sources.  Being so very poor has forced me to really rely on God and to take a harsh look at how I spend my money.  It’s made me realize that I am way too self-indulgent and not careful enough, even though I don’t make extravagant purchases.  My triggers are a bunch of little things that eventually add up to big debt.  I can’t do math in my head, but I insist on giving a “guesstimate” and hope it’s close enough to what I think it is.  That’s just plain dumb and irresponsible. Somehow, I must put a stop to that immediately.   

Actually, I hope to one day never have to rely on credit cards ever again.  I’ve studied up on the plan conjured up by Dave Ramsey, radio host and financial guru.  His plan to get out of debt is hard but solid.  It requires sacrifice and constant vigilance, relying on cash only, or a debit card.  I started on it when I was working full-time, but ever since my schedule changed, I’ve fallen off the wagon.  Look him up some time and judge for yourself.  Don’t let the fact that he’s a Christian scare you.  You’d be surprised just how often the subjects of money, debt and prosperity show up in the Bible.  It’s not just about the love of money is the root of all evil, etc., etc.  You’d be amazed at the amount of wisdom there is just on the subject of money and debt.  Proverbs 22:7 says, “The rich rule over the poor, and the borrower is slave to the lender.”  (Modern translations say servant rather than slave, but slave is really a better word for it.) I am a slave to my debt, especially my credit card debt.  If I didn’t have that, I’d have a lot less to worry about.  The thing is, that credit card debt is there only because I put it there.  It’s entirely my fault, and it’s up to me to pay it off.

What really gets to me is how easily I and many people have been duped into thinking debt is a good thing.  How foolish!  Didn’t The Great Depression teach us anything?  Sure, my generation wasn’t there to witness it, but so what?  Why do we always have to have the wolves on our heels to realize just how much danger we’re really in?  That goes for so many other things, too.

That’s one lesson I’ve been relearning.  What else? 

My faith.  That’s a big one.  I’m going to talk about my Christianity now, because that’s perhaps the biggest part of who I am.  Even if you’re not a Christian, I hope you continue to read, if only to see where I’m coming from and see how my faith guides me in life.  If you ever have questions about what it is or how it works, just ask me.  To me, the only stupid question is the one you never ask.

Recently, partly due to my job woes, I’ve been trying to get closer to God, figuring out what His purpose for me is, rather than trying to figure out what He wants me to do.  (There’s a subtle difference there-did you catch it?  Instead of asking God, “What do you want ME to do?” I’ve been trying to ask, “How can I best be of service to YOU?”) Ever since the incident where He answered me directly (see previous entries) I’ve been trying to do my best to keep Him closer to the forefront of my mind, so I can include him in more of my day-to-day stuff.  How do I do that?  Well, it sure isn’t easy, let me tell ya!  It shocked me to realize just how closely God pays attention.  Yet I found myself asking, “Why wouldn’t He pay attention?  Why wouldn’t He know exactly what I was thinking when I was eating breakfast last week Monday, or when putting on my makeup, or picking my nose?”  (Yes, He saw that too, gah…) In other words, why was I so shocked? 

Because in my self-serving attitude, my arrogance, apathy, and small-mindedness, I quite simply forgot. 

I often don’t think about or care what other people say or do, so for some reason I tend to think God doesn’t, either. 

WRONG.

He only cares too much.  About everything, and everyone…and why?  Because it’s all about Him.

That’s the biggest A-HA moment I had. 

I’m sure you’ve all heard the phrase, “It’s all about me.”  Guess what I learned? That’s about the biggest lie out there.  It’s not all about me.  It’s all about God.  Life is God, love is God. Everything good in me comes from God, and that’s why God should be in all I do.  The thing is, sin-the very thing that is evil within us, is doing everything possible to drag our focus away from God and put it anywhere else, namely, ourselves.

Sounds freaky? Yeah, it took me a while to understand it too, and I’ve been a Christian all my life.  Once you get it, it’s not so hard to know.  The challenge comes in the execution.

Now, I’m not saying you shouldn’t focus on yourself at all.  If you need any sort of therapy to understand why you do what you do, that’s fine.  I see nothing wrong with that at all.  The problem is so many self-help books are flawed in that they focus only on you.  You can explore the deepest parts of yourself, but be careful-you can easily get lost.  With God, you have a torch leading the way, one that burns brightly for your whole life.  So long as you hold it in front, that is before you, you will be able to see where you’re going much more clearly.

It’s not about suddenly becoming some super Christian, because Lord knows, I’m not.  God uses us by the very skills He gave us.  If you’re not a pastor or teacher or missionary material, that’s all right!  God knows that!  I’ve written before that my father never went to college, but he’s the wisest man I know.  He works in a little office, and yet he manages to bring up his faith in a quiet, subtle way.  It’s a gentle nudge here and there.  God has a purpose specifically designed for my father, and it’s the same for everyone.  We just have to put aside our selfish desires and pay attention.  I think we tend to do better when we decide to pay attention to the gentle nudges.  They’re a lot better than painful shoves, although at times we need those, too.

What I’ve learned the most is just how much my own selfishness has caused me to isolate myself from almost everyone.  First of all, I’m ashamed about my current living situation.  I shouldn’t be, but I am.  That’s a constant struggle I have.  How could I tell people that I still live with my parents at 36 years of age?  Who would want to get to know me, or date me?  How could anyone not see a lazy, good-for-nothing person?  People will and do judge, whether they intend to or not.  It’s just how we’re wired, part of our sinful nature, and it’s a sad thing.  It’s also so very wrong, and we are the harshest judges when it comes to ourselves.  Of course, we deny stuff too, and lie.  God helps me by giving me a cleaner reflection than I could ever invent.  As for my living situation, it is what it is.  I’m trying to change it, and I know when the time is right, it will happen.

Another thing that’s really selfish of me is being afraid of trying and failing, or even trying and succeeding.  That probably sounds pretty weird, so let me elaborate.  I’ve written about it before, that my greatest two fears are success and failure-hence I’m stuck. 

It’s selfish to live in a way that’s too safe.  To fail is more familiar, and is almost a comfort, really.  If I suddenly succeed with my poetry, or art, or writing, what then?  Ah, the unknown, and the responsibility that comes with it-that truly terrifies me.  Isn’t that strange?  Maybe it is, and maybe not-so many go through their entire lives and only after the kids are grown, or after they enter retirement do they actually gather the courage to do what they’ve wanted to do all along.  Then they slap their foreheads and collectively wonder, “What the heck took me so long??”

But I thought it wasn’t all about me?  Here’s the thing: if God wired you to enjoy photography-go forth into the world and take pictures, for crying out loud!  If God wired you to enjoy cooking, go ahead and shake ‘n bake!  Just take Him with you, that’s all He asks!  That’s not so hard, is it?  (Okay, it is, kinda, if you’re not used to it.  As with any habit, it gets better the more you do it.) Anyway, that’s what I meant by trying to include Him.  It sounds a little strange and often my immediate reaction is the exact opposite, but that’s the whole point.  God loves all of me and wants all of me, not some half-assed attempt.  I question Him, complain to Him and even yell at Him at times.  (Trust me, He can take it.)  If I want to do a little good in the world, then God has to come with me and be first.  When I draw cartoons or make funny captions, if I do so with Him in mind, then I’m really serving Him and thus, His purpose.  It’s true for you, too. 

So here’s another shocking thing I should have known, but had to relearn: don’t look for your own truth.  That’s another common misconception, because really the truth only has one version.  Either something is true or it's not.  2+2 can never equal 5, no matter how much you want it to.  God is truth.  The truth isn’t always pretty, but it doesn’t have to be.  It simply IS.

It’s not all about me.

But, guess what?  God can say, “It’s all about Me…because what I did was all for you.” 

That’s a beautiful truth, if you ask me.

The Kindness of Strangers

Sorry for my lack of updates.  I'll try to do better from now on. 

As usual, real life has kept me on my toes.  It has managed to cause me to topple over, too, but I find a way to stand, either by myself, or with a helping hand.  When I say “real life,” I mean life away from the computer, even though most people probably can't think of how life would be without it.  It freaks me out a bit to know that there are plenty of kids who have no idea what a world without computers and internet looks like.  I remember, and I'm not even so old yet. I remember a world without videogames, without microwaves, DVRs, mp3 players or dishwashers. I remember how my favorite thing to do was to climb trees and play with the cats.  Simple pleasures sometimes really are the best. A small kindness is and should be more revered than grand gestures.

The reason I'm thinking of simple pleasures and kindness today is because these past two weekends I was reminded of how truly nice it is to receive a simple act of kindness, or to enjoy just being out and about without any fancy gadgets to distract me.

Before I talk about that I feel I have to explain my life just a bit.  I currently work 3 jobs.  They're all part-time, and none are very stable.  I am a Licensed Security Guard, a Sensory Panelist (a fancy name for a professional taste tester-that's a story for another time) and a retail sales partner at Family Christian Store (which is a sort of cross between a bookstore, a Hallmark’s, and a music store.  Everything has a Christian theme to it.) 

What can I say?  You do what you can with what you have.  To pay the bills, I have to be quite the juggler sometimes.  I should say I'm a professional chameleon, because I become that which is necessary to survive. 

As I said in a previous post, I've been a security guard for several years.  I was working full-time, when work dried up after the economic downturn.  Security work is anything but secure.  Go figure.  However, when I do get work, it's often for brief, short bursts of long hours.  A 12-hr shift here, a 16-hr shift there, 3 overnight shifts over there, and so on.  Most of the time it's just standing and watching, or walking, or a combination of the three.  Since I'm an unarmed guard, I'm pretty much just an extra pair of eyes and ears.  I'd say the majority of people appreciate our presence, and those who aren't...well, that's pretty much why we're there. ;)

2 weeks ago was a doozy.  Saturday, June 30^th was the day of Rhythm and Booms, the greatest fireworks show in the Midwest.  The reason behind the name is because it’s a show set to music, but in order for the rhythm and timing to work, the audience has to have a radio.  I was scheduled to work a 14-hr shift right when the heat wave was getting in gear, so to speak.  

I prepared myself as best I could, but sadly the night before I had a bout of insomnia.  Too much mental preparation, perhaps…in short, my brain refused to shut off.  Plus, it was hot, and all I had was a fan.  Despite the house having central air, for some reason it never penetrates the top floor.  Heating, either, but that’s another story.

And so, tired and worried, I eventually got to my station, all set up with my water, some energy shots in case, nibble food, and I’d of course put on some really good sunblock called Bullfrog.  (Let me tell you, that stuff proved to work as well as claimed. I got a slight tan but I didn’t burn…and I burn easily.)  My station was at the Culver’s fast food restaurant that sits across the street from Warner Park.  (For those who don’t know, Culver’s is a pretty decent restaurant chain (for fast food, anyway) that began right here in Wisconsin.  If there is one great thing I can shamelessly plug for them, it’s their Lemon Ice.  Boy, did that hit the spot in that heat!)

When it comes to a big event like this, where people come from all over, parking suddenly becomes a very important situation that must be coordinated effectively or else it could be dangerous.  After a certain point in time, you had to have a special permission slip to park in that lot, or else you were fined.  It was true even if all you planned to do was eat at Culver’s and not stay for the show.

All day long I got to watch people enjoy themselves as best they could, even though it was hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk!  Kids were excited, parents were happy to be out and about together, etc.  At first I got some general well-wishes to keep cool which I reciprocated cheerfully, but my first real gift was from a middle-aged lady who I greeted as she pulled in.  She had her window down and greeted me, marveling at how I was just standing there, I guess.  She went through the drive-thru and said she “ordered” the cashier to give her a large-sized beverage of ice water that she gave to me before she left.

“Can you tell I work in the healthcare field?” she joked.  I told her I had 3 family members who worked at UW Hospital, and thanked her profusely.  What she didn’t know is that our security supervisors were well-prepared, carrying coolers of water bottles in their go-carts to various guards who were dotted all over the area.

Hours later, after enjoying a Lemon Ice, a young girl in her late teens or early 20’s also gave me water.  The longer I stood there, the more people came to realize just what we had to do.  Yes, I’m standing here, guarding the lot. Yes, I’ve been here since 10 a.m. and yes, I’m staying until the show is over tonight.  No, I don’t have a chair to sit in.  I had a few stupid questions asked too, reminiscent of comedian Bill Engvall:

“Aren’t you hot?” (Nope, I’m only doing my impression of fried bacon!  Here’s your sign!)

Or worse:

“Keeping cool?”  (Nope, I’m vying to become one of the Klement’s Racing Sausages!  If you don’t know what that is, look here:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sausage_Race)     

Occasionally, I’d get a wiseass or two, (smokers were a little difficult.  The habit was so strong they didn’t even think about how dry the ground was.  One spark could have been a huge disaster.) However, the majority of people were kind, even grateful.  Even the owner of Culver’s stepped up and gave us Concrete shakes (ice cream shakes with candy, fruit or other stuff.  Mine had Oreos.)

Well, after the sun went down, the show began.  Most traffic paused and almost everyone settled down where I was.  I hadn’t seen fireworks in several years, usually because I’d either worked the night before, or after the show was over.  It was terrific.  I didn’t have a radio with me, but I’d hear a wisp or two from across the street behind me.  My favorite sorts of fireworks are the huge, golden sparkly ones that remind me of lions’ manes.  

Well, 14 hours became 12.5, but it still took me another 30 minutes to get out of the area and back into the main drag, which was East Washington/Hwy 151.  While inching forward I decided to do a bit of free advertising and blast some Poets of the Fall out of my car.  There is plenty of good housing surrounding Warner Park and so I saw all kinds of people sitting in their driveways with remnants of barbecues and what-not.  I had a lot of people pointing fingers.  I drive a butter-yellow 2007 Chrysler PT Cruiser (with a dark gray interior which has to be the ugliest color combination ever) that has a few extra eye-catching doodads.  On it I’ve added some large car magnets that feature the band’s logo.  Voila!  Instant mobile billboard!  

Now, just last night I was in a ponderous mood, and I was half musing, half praying to God.  Having 3 part-time jobs and no stability will make anyone feel a bit self-conscious, and dubious about their lot in life.  To be painfully frank, I’m almost 36 with a bare-bones education, no real career, no real home, no real independence.  In short, I often feel ashamed and humiliated, though I do my best to shove that aside and work with what I’ve got.  Still, most people my age have somewhat of a sense of true purpose.  They have a job, a spouse, and a family.  I knew that wasn’t my route, but then, I really have no clue as to what my route is supposed to look like, or supposed to be.  

So I was telling God that I had a lot of doubts as to where I’m supposed to be in my life.  Am I really where God wants me?  That’s what I wanted to know.  Well…I got an answer.  Let me just say that it is a very strange feeling when God gives you a direct answer immediately.  You are equally relieved, humbled, awed, and just plain freaked out.  We humans are so miserably self-centered that we actually forget just how closely God pays attention.

Not five minutes had passed when I’d prayed.  My shift was over-a short stint I do on Sunday nights at an apartment complex in downtown Madison.  As I was walking to my car I was approached by a young girl, likely a student, who called herself Koula. (I have no idea if I am spelling that correctly.) Pretty and petite, she told me she was afraid of a man who she claimed was stalking her.  I observed the man she spoke of who was much older, and indeed as soon as our eyes locked he backed away, turned around and seemed to pretend to look at the soda machines, leaving moments later. We were standing in a parking lot of a small grocery store that is usually open at all hours except for this exact point in time. She had gone there to try to find people but was dismayed to see it was closed.  Moments later I happened to be there.  

Never underestimate the power of a uniform.  I’m not a cop, and I have no weapons of defense.  Still, I know that it doesn’t take much for an attacker to be turned aside.  You cannot be intimidated.  If you are afraid, act as if you aren’t.  You look that person in the eye and that is often challenge enough.  If they continue, you run if you can.  If you can’t, you fight like hell, and a predator will almost always prefer that which is easiest.  The reason I know this is because I survived and avoided a rape attempt at 19. When the guy grabbed me, I froze, but then God told me “DO SOMETHING!” and I fought back.  At that time I’d also just started getting into martial arts.  Timing really is everything.

Back to last night, that wasn’t the end of the story.  After giving Koula a ride home, which was less than a block away, I had to quick check on another site location that is in the process of being torn down.  The alarms will often go wonky because the sprinkler system has been shut down and all water has been turned off.  It’s an old factory that I’m equally sad and proud to watch over, because my father worked there for 28 years and that’s actually where he and my mother had first met.  (My mother and grandma worked side-by-side.  My grandma is an awesome matchmaker!)

Anyway, upon arriving I did my usual rounds and saw that some lights had been left on all week.  When things get moved around or lights are left on I usually leave them alone.  However, seeing as how nothing had really moved for a while, I decided to try and find the light switch for this particular area.  Not finding the right panel, I turned only to trip over some exposed screws that had been sticking up out of the concrete.  I shot my hands out and landed awkwardly, and felt my right shoulder slip out of its socket…again.  For some reason I have a history of his shoulder popping out of joint.  This was my third freak accident with it, and it wasn’t pleasant.  For a long minute I just lay there in shock and pain, moaning to God, “No! No, no, no!  Fix it!  Please, God! Fix it!”  I couldn’t imagine driving to the E.R. and figuring out how to pay for it.  Not another bill!  I couldn’t miss work, either.  

After praying, I very slowly lumbered to my feet, each little jarring movement causing me to scream.  I finally stood up and relaxed my shoulder…and it popped right back into place, just like that.  The reason I know that’s amazing is because the last time I dislocated my shoulder, it took 2 doctors, 3 drugs and about 2-3 hours or so to fix it.  I probably should have it in a sling, as it is stiff and sore today, but at least I can move it.  I was never so grateful, and I hope I never forget that God really does pay attention to every detail of our lives, that so long as we live to serve His purpose, we are Exactly where we need to be.