So a friend of mine and I got into a discussion a few days ago concerning how we view and interact with God and I learned something important.
My mom is great (but that isn't what I learned!). She's the best mom I know of and I'm not just saying that. She brought me up to be myself and let me ask many, many questions. I suppose I've been in the habit that if Mom told me to do something, my first reaction was, "why?" Not always because I didn't want to do whatever she asked, but because I wanted to understand the purpose of it if I didn't already.
Recently I've been wrestling with God over some things in my life that I felt like He's told me to do, yet don't understand why or for what purpose.
This is where my friend pointed out our old High School soccer coach, Coach Navas. Coach Navas had a habit of running us into the ground. He would make us do these things called "gassers" which were essentially the mother of all painful sprints. Everyday, Coach Navas would make us run some number of gassers. It could be 8 (trust me, that was enough) or 4, you just never knew. When Coach asked us to do them, we just did it. Had someone asked "why" there was a distinct possibility that the questioner would be running twice as many. Not only that, there was also the chance that one person's question might turn into everyone's punishment. So we didn't question him. Many of us couldn't see the benefit in some of the drills he made us do, but we did them anyway, without question.
I think we can see the correlation here. Sometimes God will give us answers and be like mom, you know, helping us out to understand what's going on. Sometimes God just expects us to remember that He's God and we should just simply do what He said. So Coach Navas, where ever you are, thanks for the gassers.
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Dear Underdog:
UPDATE YOUR MOTHER-LOVING BLOG. Thousands, if not millions of dedicated and hopeful fans have endured far too much time passing. You are LOSING them. Their numbers shrink by the hundreds every hour. Try as I might to keep them hopeful; to instill that urge to fight just a little while longer, they keep telling me:
My heart weeps...it weeps I tell you. It weeps like a hundred jackals at the hands of drug-crazed yetis. It weeps like so many spider monkeys who know the real key to life is just to fling poo, yet are unable to communicate such a truth to us mindless humans. My heart pours tears as if it just learned Optimus Prime himself was nothing more than a myth. Please, forsake us no longer...
"He's gone, man! He's forsaken us! Look at how long it has been! All is lost!"I fight on saying:
"No, no! It isn't true! He only sleeps! I promise he'll be back! The longer he waits the greater the revelation will be! The more entertaining the words and phrases!"But they lose hope, brother. The masses are turning against you. Your blog has somehow been left a desert...turned over to happenstance visitors and random spam-comments on virility products. And for what? A few more hours of fighting a fake battle against a virtual enemy on a game we rented using a console you don't even own?!?
My heart weeps...it weeps I tell you. It weeps like a hundred jackals at the hands of drug-crazed yetis. It weeps like so many spider monkeys who know the real key to life is just to fling poo, yet are unable to communicate such a truth to us mindless humans. My heart pours tears as if it just learned Optimus Prime himself was nothing more than a myth. Please, forsake us no longer...
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Bothered
I've recently been thinking about something. Yeah, not an uncommon thing for me to do. I probably think too much as it is. Be that as it may, this topic really bothers me. Sex and society. When I think about what God intended relationships between a man and a women to be and compare that with what the world is telling us and even what I've done in my life, I feel sick. I just don't understand. Then again, maybe I understand more than I want to. I've had pretty messed up ideas about sex and women before. I pursued what I thought men should pursue only to find a lot of degeneration and selfishness. People pursuing "happiness" at all costs to themselves and the people around them. People continually giving themselves away because they somehow think that sex or pornography or being sexually attractive is going to fill some void in their life. I know I thought that way.
But even if someone doesn't believe in God, how can they look at the way sex is depicted in the Bible and claim it is not something good? Even if they think the Bible is full of it, how can they throw out the way it calls for men and women to treat each other as if it would hurt them?
1 in 4 women these days have been sexually molested in some way, shape, or form. 1 in 4. That means nearly 37 MILLION women in the US alone have been sexually molested. You know, at the very least when someone murders somebody the victim doesn't have to live with it. While the murder is demonstrating that they think the victim's life is worthless, at least it is over and they don't have to suffer on this earth anymore for it. Rape, on the other hand, tells a women the same thing in terms of her life being worthless, but she has to live out her life struggling to overcome that.
But more and more, we see things like this. And while I know the many good uses of it, the Internet might as well be a massive porn depository. And there's thousands of other examples: priests preying on young children, women teachers and their young male students, children becoming sexually active at younger and younger ages, and on and on and on.
Somehow many people think of it as freedom. They don't have to listen to the rules, forgetting all about the fact that many of the "rules" where only made for our own good. But more and more I have noticed in my old self and in many people I come into contact with that people aren't looking for freedom from rules or religion. They aren't looking to be anti-social or "fight the power." They are looking for love. Men, women, children; all looking for love and doing whatever they can to find it. Men think that they'll like themselves and be respected if women find them sexually attractive and are "good in the sack." Women seem to think that because a man is sleeping with them that he must love them and they turn to those fleeting moments of intimate connection whenever they want to feel reassured that they are beautiful and something to be desired.
But it is never enough. You can't fill up on porn. You can't sleep with enough people. You can't feed enough sexual desires to make it go away. You can't look enough, kiss enough, hold enough, pursue enough, get close enough, rape enough, pervert enough or feed every single sexual desire you have enough to make it stop. It is a hunger unlike anything else in this human existence.
But it can be stopped. People can find their validation is something good that will actually do something positive in their life. But only when they decide to get serious about change. I wish I could say it was easy. I had a conversation with a couple last Sunday about this very topic and I can say with confidence that it isn't an easy road to follow. But God can validate us unlike anything else can. He created us and we were designed to have a relationship with Him that will validate us completely. He isn't out to make a bunch of rules to ruin our lives. I wish I could make people understand that...
But even if someone doesn't believe in God, how can they look at the way sex is depicted in the Bible and claim it is not something good? Even if they think the Bible is full of it, how can they throw out the way it calls for men and women to treat each other as if it would hurt them?
1 in 4 women these days have been sexually molested in some way, shape, or form. 1 in 4. That means nearly 37 MILLION women in the US alone have been sexually molested. You know, at the very least when someone murders somebody the victim doesn't have to live with it. While the murder is demonstrating that they think the victim's life is worthless, at least it is over and they don't have to suffer on this earth anymore for it. Rape, on the other hand, tells a women the same thing in terms of her life being worthless, but she has to live out her life struggling to overcome that.
But more and more, we see things like this. And while I know the many good uses of it, the Internet might as well be a massive porn depository. And there's thousands of other examples: priests preying on young children, women teachers and their young male students, children becoming sexually active at younger and younger ages, and on and on and on.
Somehow many people think of it as freedom. They don't have to listen to the rules, forgetting all about the fact that many of the "rules" where only made for our own good. But more and more I have noticed in my old self and in many people I come into contact with that people aren't looking for freedom from rules or religion. They aren't looking to be anti-social or "fight the power." They are looking for love. Men, women, children; all looking for love and doing whatever they can to find it. Men think that they'll like themselves and be respected if women find them sexually attractive and are "good in the sack." Women seem to think that because a man is sleeping with them that he must love them and they turn to those fleeting moments of intimate connection whenever they want to feel reassured that they are beautiful and something to be desired.
But it is never enough. You can't fill up on porn. You can't sleep with enough people. You can't feed enough sexual desires to make it go away. You can't look enough, kiss enough, hold enough, pursue enough, get close enough, rape enough, pervert enough or feed every single sexual desire you have enough to make it stop. It is a hunger unlike anything else in this human existence.
But it can be stopped. People can find their validation is something good that will actually do something positive in their life. But only when they decide to get serious about change. I wish I could say it was easy. I had a conversation with a couple last Sunday about this very topic and I can say with confidence that it isn't an easy road to follow. But God can validate us unlike anything else can. He created us and we were designed to have a relationship with Him that will validate us completely. He isn't out to make a bunch of rules to ruin our lives. I wish I could make people understand that...
Debate
There's a debate going on in my head right now. Should I sell my 1999 Jeep Wrangler Sport (the very same I recently sunk in a mudhole) and purchase the vehicle you see here (1991 Isuzu Trooper)? While it isn't a raging debate, let's try to work out some details:
I still owe a decent amount of bread on the Jeep. (side note: we should all go back to referring to money as "bread"). While it is not a terrible lot, I've recently gotten into the mindset of dumping all my excess in order to slim down both with my money and in the amount of "stuff" I own. I could probably get away with selling the Jeep for almost $10,000 so I would actually make money off the sell.
The Jeep is not a cheap vehicle to have. Jeeps are domestic and like so many domestic cars, they are notorious for repetitive annoying issues. I've replaced the radiator twice, fixed two leaks in the transmission, replaced the exhaust manifold, and repaired various nic-naks since I bought it. While many of the issues are not big problems, they still cost money. Also, the soft top will need to be replaced soon which is another 500 or 600 bucks
I owned a Trooper before the Jeep and loved it. It was inexpensive, relatively reliable and had enough room in it for my purposes. While not as "cool" as a Jeep, it was definitely a true SUV with decent off-road capability and the ability to carry a lot of people or stuff around. Plus, it's boxy and boxy SUV's are where it's at, people.
I can buy this Trooper for $200. That might be a selling point in and of itself, but I then must put about $3,000 into it for a new transmission and engine. However, once that is done, that will be the extent of the cost of the vehicle. No loans, no payments, etc.
On the other hand...Jeeps are Jeeps. And I love Jeeps. I sold my old 1991 Jeep Wrangler after a year of driving it and kicked myself in the rear for 4 years until I could get the one I own now. The Jeep I own now was frankly a gift from God himself because I all but stole it from the people I bought it from. Plus, there is simply nothing like driving around with no top on (be it me or the Jeep) during warm summer nights.
So much to think about. Save money and lose the Jeep lifestyle and cool points it automatically brings me (I need all I can get) or keep it and make my wallet suck it up?
Friday, December 16, 2005
Jack and Kong
So Ryan and I saw King Kong the other night. I was actually pretty good. A bit too much of a love story (I wanted to see more of Kong destroying things..he he he) but good nonetheless. One scene stuck with me, though. No, it wasn't Kong ripping open the jaws of a T-Rex. It wasn't Kong terrorizing NYC, and it wasn't even the numerous chances one gets to stare into the eyes of Naomi Watts who, in my opinion, looks absolutely stunning in this film. No, it was a simple scene of Jack, his band of men, and a ravine. After being rescued from large insects obviously hungry for human flesh, Jack and two others climb their way out of the ravine. After they get to the top, the camera zooms out to show Jack on one side and everyone else on another. While everyone else had given up on rescuing Ann, Jack had not. Even with everyone standing on one side telling him it was over and to give up, Jack kept trudging on. Here is why this stuck:
Jack wasn't going to give up in the face of adversity be it from giant bug, T-Rex, a large Ape, or even the pressure from everyone else involved. I want to be that sort of man. I want to fight for what I believe in even if everything and everyone around me is telling me to quit.
I think this is a simplified way of how God is toward us. God is never going to give up on us. He isn't going to quit and even when circumstances and everything else in our lives tells Him to quit on us because we aren't going to turn towards Him, He never does. He keeps chasing after us, trying to rescue us from those things that will eventually destroy us. All it takes is for us to turn towards Him!
Anyway, that's what a movie about an attractive blonde woman and a monkey will get out of me...
Jack wasn't going to give up in the face of adversity be it from giant bug, T-Rex, a large Ape, or even the pressure from everyone else involved. I want to be that sort of man. I want to fight for what I believe in even if everything and everyone around me is telling me to quit.
I think this is a simplified way of how God is toward us. God is never going to give up on us. He isn't going to quit and even when circumstances and everything else in our lives tells Him to quit on us because we aren't going to turn towards Him, He never does. He keeps chasing after us, trying to rescue us from those things that will eventually destroy us. All it takes is for us to turn towards Him!
Anyway, that's what a movie about an attractive blonde woman and a monkey will get out of me...
Luke
Well, it was time. My good friend Luke left us yesterday at the ripe old age of 14 years. He went peacefully and (thankfully) not by a needle at the vet's office. He simply fell asleep and didn't wake up. I know, it's only a cat, but he was a friend too and Luke had been with me since I was in 8th grade. My brother had him before then, but gave him to us to keep when he moved into an apartment that wouldn't allow him to have pets. From what we could remember, Luke was born around the end of 1991. I wish everyone could have met Luke. Even people who didn't like cats at all liked Luke. He was never mean or acted crazy. He was just a great pet. You could occasionally catch even my dad, who proudly displays a sticker saying "I love cats: scattered, smothered, and covered" on his car, sitting in his chair petting Luke. So, in honor of Luke, I'd like recap some of the greater things he was known for.
Many people have assumed that Luke was named after Luke Skywalker of Star Wars fame. Nope, that isn't the case. Luke was named after the Paul Newman film Cool Hand Luke, a movie my dad, my brother and myself have enjoyed watching together on many occasions. I suppose being named after the Star Wars Luke would've been nice, but the demeanor of this cat was much more in line with Paul Newman's character.
Before mom kicked him out of house (after I moved out), Luke had only been a housecat. He was fat (topped out at 23lbs at one time), not too quick and, get this, really enjoyed sleeping under the covers in a bed. It was hysterical. Depending on how cold it was, Luke would either sleep on top, between the sheet and the comforter or underneath everything. He would always end up either at my feet or, if I laid on my side, tucked neatly behind my bent knees. He would always sleep at night even though cats are generally nocturnal. Every once in a while, I'd wake up with him attempting to nudge his way back under the covers after getting up for whatever reason. Sometimes in the mornings, I would wake up with that lump of fur laying between my feet. I'd start poking him with my toes and moving my legs around and soon I'd hear a low grumble coming from him. If I continued, he would grumble some more and then politely clamp some teeth down on one of my feet as if to say, "I could bite this foot off if I wanted to, buddy. You'd better leave me alone." But he never clamped enough for it to really hurt. He would only "warn" me.
Luke didn't eat just anything. In fact, he would only eat one thing: Science Diet cat food. Don't ask me why, but even if you put tuna fish in front of him, he would turn it down. That cat loved his Science Diet. However, he didn't always like his Science Diet to be hard as it was. So Luke, being the ingenious feline he was, would dip his paw in his nearby water bowl, hold the dripping paw over the food for a second, shake it off, and then take a few bites right where the water had dropped! That was one smart cat.
As with his food, Luke was just as picky about his liquid intake. While he would drink from the water bowl if he had too, Luke would normally run up the stairs (while looking back to make sure you were following) meow a few times and hop into the tub. He would put his face up to the faucet and meow until you turned a trickle of water on so he could drink from it. At one point at the height of his obesity, Luke actually would wait for you to pick him up and place him into the tub instead of jumping in himself! I know, I know, we spoiled him, but Luke was worth it.
For many years, my mother or I gave Luke a weekly bath in an attempt to keep the cat hair down. You could tell Luke never liked it (with all his whining meows), but he never tried to run out or scratch you or anything. He just stood there and put up with it. Maybe because he had been given baths since he was a kitten, I don't really know. The bath was not the worst part, it was the amount of time it took to dry his hair! Cat hair is hollow in the middle so it absorbs a lot of water. Even with the hair dryer it took 15 minutes to get him dry enough to prevent hairballs. Speaking of which, any time Luke did get one, he would never chuck it up on a solid floor...it always had to be carpet or something similar!
Luke knew when we would go on trips. He would go get under the bed or the couch and not come out when we were getting ready to leave. I guess he was mad.
Luke talked to you. Of course, nobody understood him, but for the longest time he either thought he was human or thought everyone else was a cat. If you looked at him and spoke, he would meow in reply. Sometimes we would have "conversations" while he was laid up on my stomach.
Luke would get scared. Before we put him out in the garage, if you picked him up, held him and took him outside, he would reach up and wrap his paws around your neck while resting his head on your shoulder and looking behind you. I guess because he didn't know anything about the outside world and it freaked him out. You could feel if he got more scared because he would tighten his hold! I know it sounds dumb, but he really would do this. I have many witnesses!
Like all cats, Luke liked to sleep a lot. You could always catch him under the skylight in the bonus room sunning himself and if I feel asleep on the couch, I would normally wake up with him right next to me...asleep himself. And occasionally he would kill little insects around the house. I watched him many times bat roaches around until he got tired of playing with it and finally killed it. After moving outside, he actually brought down a bird...and this was from a cat who not only lived inside almost his whole life, but had no front claws!
While it wouldn't work every time, Luke normally came to you if you called him. He might take his sweet time, but eventually he would hop up on your lap, especially if he knew he was going to get petted. If you really took some time to pet Luke, you'd find that he would not only be drooling on you while you petted him, but would "pump" his paws on your bare skin somewhere. But never through a shirt or anything. I guess maybe he thought he was returning the favor. As a joke, I would sometimes take a piece of his own hair and quickly shove it up his nose to make him sneeze. I was never mean about it, just playing with him. He normally just sat and took it though, expecting me to stop being a child soon and go back to rubbing his head.
There's a lot more I could write about that cat. I didn't realize until just now how much I actually remembered. I don't think I'll be getting another cat soon; I don't believe Luke would easily be replaced. So here's to you, Luke. Goodbye and thanks for all the memories. You'll be missed on those cold nights when my feet just can't seem to keep warm. And going home to see my parents just won't be the same without you there. While it might be a stretch, maybe God really does have a place set aside for good pets. If so, I know you're there!
Many people have assumed that Luke was named after Luke Skywalker of Star Wars fame. Nope, that isn't the case. Luke was named after the Paul Newman film Cool Hand Luke, a movie my dad, my brother and myself have enjoyed watching together on many occasions. I suppose being named after the Star Wars Luke would've been nice, but the demeanor of this cat was much more in line with Paul Newman's character.
Before mom kicked him out of house (after I moved out), Luke had only been a housecat. He was fat (topped out at 23lbs at one time), not too quick and, get this, really enjoyed sleeping under the covers in a bed. It was hysterical. Depending on how cold it was, Luke would either sleep on top, between the sheet and the comforter or underneath everything. He would always end up either at my feet or, if I laid on my side, tucked neatly behind my bent knees. He would always sleep at night even though cats are generally nocturnal. Every once in a while, I'd wake up with him attempting to nudge his way back under the covers after getting up for whatever reason. Sometimes in the mornings, I would wake up with that lump of fur laying between my feet. I'd start poking him with my toes and moving my legs around and soon I'd hear a low grumble coming from him. If I continued, he would grumble some more and then politely clamp some teeth down on one of my feet as if to say, "I could bite this foot off if I wanted to, buddy. You'd better leave me alone." But he never clamped enough for it to really hurt. He would only "warn" me.
Luke didn't eat just anything. In fact, he would only eat one thing: Science Diet cat food. Don't ask me why, but even if you put tuna fish in front of him, he would turn it down. That cat loved his Science Diet. However, he didn't always like his Science Diet to be hard as it was. So Luke, being the ingenious feline he was, would dip his paw in his nearby water bowl, hold the dripping paw over the food for a second, shake it off, and then take a few bites right where the water had dropped! That was one smart cat.
As with his food, Luke was just as picky about his liquid intake. While he would drink from the water bowl if he had too, Luke would normally run up the stairs (while looking back to make sure you were following) meow a few times and hop into the tub. He would put his face up to the faucet and meow until you turned a trickle of water on so he could drink from it. At one point at the height of his obesity, Luke actually would wait for you to pick him up and place him into the tub instead of jumping in himself! I know, I know, we spoiled him, but Luke was worth it.
For many years, my mother or I gave Luke a weekly bath in an attempt to keep the cat hair down. You could tell Luke never liked it (with all his whining meows), but he never tried to run out or scratch you or anything. He just stood there and put up with it. Maybe because he had been given baths since he was a kitten, I don't really know. The bath was not the worst part, it was the amount of time it took to dry his hair! Cat hair is hollow in the middle so it absorbs a lot of water. Even with the hair dryer it took 15 minutes to get him dry enough to prevent hairballs. Speaking of which, any time Luke did get one, he would never chuck it up on a solid floor...it always had to be carpet or something similar!
Luke knew when we would go on trips. He would go get under the bed or the couch and not come out when we were getting ready to leave. I guess he was mad.
Luke talked to you. Of course, nobody understood him, but for the longest time he either thought he was human or thought everyone else was a cat. If you looked at him and spoke, he would meow in reply. Sometimes we would have "conversations" while he was laid up on my stomach.
Luke would get scared. Before we put him out in the garage, if you picked him up, held him and took him outside, he would reach up and wrap his paws around your neck while resting his head on your shoulder and looking behind you. I guess because he didn't know anything about the outside world and it freaked him out. You could feel if he got more scared because he would tighten his hold! I know it sounds dumb, but he really would do this. I have many witnesses!
Like all cats, Luke liked to sleep a lot. You could always catch him under the skylight in the bonus room sunning himself and if I feel asleep on the couch, I would normally wake up with him right next to me...asleep himself. And occasionally he would kill little insects around the house. I watched him many times bat roaches around until he got tired of playing with it and finally killed it. After moving outside, he actually brought down a bird...and this was from a cat who not only lived inside almost his whole life, but had no front claws!
While it wouldn't work every time, Luke normally came to you if you called him. He might take his sweet time, but eventually he would hop up on your lap, especially if he knew he was going to get petted. If you really took some time to pet Luke, you'd find that he would not only be drooling on you while you petted him, but would "pump" his paws on your bare skin somewhere. But never through a shirt or anything. I guess maybe he thought he was returning the favor. As a joke, I would sometimes take a piece of his own hair and quickly shove it up his nose to make him sneeze. I was never mean about it, just playing with him. He normally just sat and took it though, expecting me to stop being a child soon and go back to rubbing his head.
There's a lot more I could write about that cat. I didn't realize until just now how much I actually remembered. I don't think I'll be getting another cat soon; I don't believe Luke would easily be replaced. So here's to you, Luke. Goodbye and thanks for all the memories. You'll be missed on those cold nights when my feet just can't seem to keep warm. And going home to see my parents just won't be the same without you there. While it might be a stretch, maybe God really does have a place set aside for good pets. If so, I know you're there!
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Sunk
I had fun this past weekend. Not too much fun, not so little fun that I'm faking it, but just enough to warrant some posting to "da blog."
Friday night: went with Ryan, Kylie, Crystal, Crystal's friends, Nick and Heidi to the Grove Park Inn for a swanky, fireside time of hanging out and conversation. However, due to my sometimes anti-social behavior and desire to really "experience" the new places I visit, I spent much of the time walking around the grounds and checking out the history involved in the Inn. It is quite a place! You should go stay there...if you can afford it (I know I can't)!
Saturday: Played about 4 hours of NCAA Football 06 on the new PS2 I just got. Go Bama! If they can't win for real, I'll make them win virtually! Then it was off to my company's Christmas party in Augusta, GA. This is where it gets interesting. I left quite early so I could check in and hang out with some guys I know from our Charleston branch. While driving down Hwy 28 south of Abbeville, I passed Parson's Mountain OHV Trail. With plenty of time to burn, I figured I would check it out and see if it was worth coming back for. I drove a couple of miles down a gravel road and turned onto a trail running through the woods. Upon discovering what appeared to be a relatively small mudhole, I put the Jeep in 4wd and got a running start....only to find that the hole was much deeper than it appeared. Needless to say, my poor Jeep sunk up to the door sills and was fully stuck. No amount of rocking was going to get me out. I had my trusty Hi-Lift jack, but no corresponding chains or tow ropes. I called my friend Matt from Iva to see if he could get me out. As I walked the 4 miles back to the highway to meet him, it began raining and I started laughing at my own stupidity. Unfortunately, Matt's truck wouldn't pull it out without him getting stuck also and since he was on a date at the time, I let him drop me off at a gas station and take off. So I had to call in the "big guns" in the form of Garner's Wrecker Service in Abbeville, SC. The owner John was an awesome guy. His very large and very loving dog Jack (a German Shepard) didn't really want to share his seat in the front of the tow truck, however. So here I am, riding in nowhere, SC in a big tow truck with a German Shepard in my lap who can't stop licking me on my way to pull my stuck Jeep out of a mudhole so I can then be on my way to the high class Partridge Inn for a corporate Christmas party. Yes, I made it to the party (albeit late) and yes I had a great time. I was proud of myself for pulling off all that in one day!
I can see how that experience models our lives in God's eyes. We get ourselves stuck in holes all the time and it takes Jesus to winch us out...thank God for Him and big trucks...
Friday night: went with Ryan, Kylie, Crystal, Crystal's friends, Nick and Heidi to the Grove Park Inn for a swanky, fireside time of hanging out and conversation. However, due to my sometimes anti-social behavior and desire to really "experience" the new places I visit, I spent much of the time walking around the grounds and checking out the history involved in the Inn. It is quite a place! You should go stay there...if you can afford it (I know I can't)!
Saturday: Played about 4 hours of NCAA Football 06 on the new PS2 I just got. Go Bama! If they can't win for real, I'll make them win virtually! Then it was off to my company's Christmas party in Augusta, GA. This is where it gets interesting. I left quite early so I could check in and hang out with some guys I know from our Charleston branch. While driving down Hwy 28 south of Abbeville, I passed Parson's Mountain OHV Trail. With plenty of time to burn, I figured I would check it out and see if it was worth coming back for. I drove a couple of miles down a gravel road and turned onto a trail running through the woods. Upon discovering what appeared to be a relatively small mudhole, I put the Jeep in 4wd and got a running start....only to find that the hole was much deeper than it appeared. Needless to say, my poor Jeep sunk up to the door sills and was fully stuck. No amount of rocking was going to get me out. I had my trusty Hi-Lift jack, but no corresponding chains or tow ropes. I called my friend Matt from Iva to see if he could get me out. As I walked the 4 miles back to the highway to meet him, it began raining and I started laughing at my own stupidity. Unfortunately, Matt's truck wouldn't pull it out without him getting stuck also and since he was on a date at the time, I let him drop me off at a gas station and take off. So I had to call in the "big guns" in the form of Garner's Wrecker Service in Abbeville, SC. The owner John was an awesome guy. His very large and very loving dog Jack (a German Shepard) didn't really want to share his seat in the front of the tow truck, however. So here I am, riding in nowhere, SC in a big tow truck with a German Shepard in my lap who can't stop licking me on my way to pull my stuck Jeep out of a mudhole so I can then be on my way to the high class Partridge Inn for a corporate Christmas party. Yes, I made it to the party (albeit late) and yes I had a great time. I was proud of myself for pulling off all that in one day!
I can see how that experience models our lives in God's eyes. We get ourselves stuck in holes all the time and it takes Jesus to winch us out...thank God for Him and big trucks...
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