Happy 36th

I just turned 36 a week ago. It was a milestone birthday for me. You see, I’ve now outlived my biological father. He died at 35, and for years, the thought of turning the very age at which he passed was not a welcome one for me. So much so, in fact, I often found myself wishing I could fast forward to my 36^th birthday, so I could just be done with it all. I know this may seem odd to you, but truth be told, we all wrestle with certain oddities that, if left unchecked, can shape our realities. And for years, this was my pet oddity.

Now, let me be clear on something. I am a profound lover of Jesus Christ, and over the years I have learned to trust Him in this area of my life. I have honestly experienced monumental victory over a fear of death that once haunted me. Even so, 35, for me, was always the final battle. And I knew that it would have to be fought. So I just wanted it over and done with.

But now that it is, I am struck with remorse over a life that was not allowed to live in the present, because of its preoccupation with the future. In other words, I spent so much energy wanting time to pass that I didn’t make the most of the time that I had. Now that I’m 36, I can hear the clock ticking, and the question that is being asked of me is “what will you do with the time you've been given?”

We’re all going to die. That is inevitable. But how many of us truly live? How many of us really enjoy life? Savor its fragrances, bask in it’s warm hues and rich tones, dance to its rythms? How many of us are lucid enough to recognize the preciousness of the gift of life that we've received? At 36, I am hit with the reality that I only get one go round on the carousel, and I’ve missed too much of the ride. I’ve wasted opportunities, avoided uncomfortable situations, shunned risk and surrounded myself with people and things that make me feel safe. But I’m done with safe. It’s now time to live, and live with intention.

What’s in your heart? What do you want to do with your life? Who do you want to be? What is your dream? What do you want to be said about you when they lay your lifeless body to rest? These are the questions I’m now asking myself, and I encourage you to do the same.

As a follower of Jesus, I know that our dreams were given to us by God Himself. And the greatest act of worship to the God of creation is to chase those dreams down with fearless abandonment.

We each have the opportunity to write our own eulogies, and I’m now in the process of thinking about what I want mine to say.

For those of you who are wondering, yes this is the funny guy’s blog, but it’s been hijacked by a profound thinker. The funny guy will be back in time for the next blog.

English Good

I had to work the day after the day after Christmas, which in itself is a hardship. And given the circumstances, I’m sure anyone could have had an ‘off day’. I certainly did, and I haven’t been able to let go of it yet.

My 12th grade English teacher came into the bank. I hadn’t seen her in 17 and a half years. Many things can change in a 17 and a half year period, however she is not one of them. In my younger days, I called her the pit bull because of her stern demeanor and her hulk-like forearms. I had forgotten this, but it all came back to me the instant I saw her again. She embraced me with her burly arms as she greeted me. It was a good hug, but not one you’d expect from an elderly woman. We briefly exchanged pleasantries. Then I asked her about my son, who now attends my alma matter, where she holds an administrative position. And this is where I collapsed.

“Oh, he’s wonderful,” she said as her expression moved from pit bull to grandma. “We don’t have any trouble out of him. He’s a good student and he’s so smart, especially in math. Just like his daddy.” And like a jolt of lightning out of the clear blue, it hit me. My English teacher was insinuating that I was no good in English. Oh sure, to the average person, it sounds as if I was being complimented. But I am no average person (see the genius article below). I can read between the lines. I could hear what she was saying, loud and clear: “You must have been smart in math, because you sure as heck sucked at English.”

I protested, “Actually, Isaac is very verbal, just like me.” And this is where the train wreck occurred. I panicked. I literally couldn’t construct a linear thought from that point. Ever try to convince someone you’re good at something while failing to do the very thing you’re bragging about? I stuttered. My sentences ran on. I dangled my participles. I even ended a sentence with a preposition. I could see the doubt in her eye, and I should have just ended the conversation there. But I didn’t. I went on. Out of desperation, I began a ‘no really’ tirade of nonsense as I desperately tried to convince her of my verbal proficiency. I’m not sure exactly what I said, but as I look back, I remember it this way: “me good English. Me want to write book. Isaac too book write yes. English good. Ben good too.”

The conversation eventually collapsed, and we parted ways. As we did, I detected a slight twinkle in her eye. Only it wasn’t a feel good twinkle. It was more like an ‘I told you so twinkle’. In the course of just 10 minutes, I had convinced us both that I am math smart.

And After the 6th Blog, I Rested

I’m young. I know this to be true, despite the fact that sometimes I ache when I get up in the morning. Oh sure, I’m now officially in my late 30’s, but relatively speaking, I’m still very much young and spry. I say this because I still have my boyish good looks, and I can also hold my own on the tennis court (at least against the senior citizens that I often find myself playing with). However, like most young people I know, I sometimes have a problem biting off more than I can chew.

When I began this blog some 2 months ago, I had big plans for it. Very big plans. This was to be my ticket to stardom – a guaranteed means of connecting my talent with those who would value it enough to pay. I know that I have what it takes to be a literary star, and this blog was all about exposure. I was confident that, after a few brilliant posts, my subscriber list would explode in population size - enough so to make the state of Texas blush. I was on my way to becoming a pop culture sensation, all thanks to this blog, and at some point, some national blogging syndicate would sign me to a multi-year, multi-million dollar contract. I would never have to work another day in my life. It was a brilliantly concocted, fail-safe plan. After all, if I could get my material on the internet, I was guaranteed success – they don’t just let any old fool onto the world wide web.

Ah, but the best laid plans of mice and men…

What I hadn’t counted on was the x factor. As in, I have x-hausted all of my creative resources on just 6 blogs and I only have 3 subscribers… how x-cruciating!

And as quickly as it began, the dream started to sputter. I soon found myself in the throes of a mild state of semi-depression, having completely lost the desire to blog. As a result, I was lost. What's a fish without water? What's pepperoni without pizza? What's Brad without Angelina? What’s a writer when there’s nothing to write about?

In my state of lostness, I sought escape. I considered turning to alcohol to take the edge off the pain, but my Christian faith demands that I not take too much pleasure there. I thought about burying myself in my career, but as I’ve eluded to in other posts, the IT officer at the Bank of Edison doesn’t really have enough work to cover the mandated 32 hours a week, let alone a substantial burial. So in desperation, my thoughts turned darker, and I considered ending it all. And just when I was on the verge of announcing the death of my blog, it hit me. Even God found it necessary to take a breather from time to time. After all, He rested on the 7^th day, so why shouldn’t I take some much needed R&R after my 6^th blog.

What can I tell you friends? It worked. I've now rediscovered my love for blogging. I’m in the saddle once more, and I have lots to blog about. So, while I’m still confident that the million-dollar contract is soon in coming, I’m now writing for the sheer joy of blogging alone.

So eat up, 'Blah, Blah, Blog' fans… ‘cause in the words of the late great George Costanza, “I’m back baby!”