I just got a copy of a poem that my cousin wrote for his Uncle who was killed last week while at work. It passed my personal test of good lit when I read it and said, "Dang. I wish I'd written that." The boy might not have any skill at picking NCAA tournament games, but he's got some verse locked up in his dome for sure.
Uncle RJ
I'll never forget all those warm summer nights,
that followed the days of cold water fights.
Or the man at the center of every one,
my dad's older brother, gramps oldest son.
You could see that big smile all over his face
as his Harley pulled up to visit our place.
And it wasn't to long before he got hold of you,
and each of us knew what we had to do.
We cried,
Mercy, mercy Uncle J,
I think that’s all I can handle today,
I'll be ready for more when you come back again
but until then, I love you my friend.
I have never felt pain like I did on the day
that I learned from my sister he had been taken away.
I fell to my knees and begged the Lord please,
don't let him be gone without one final tease.
I thought of my aunt and my cousins too,
My heart swells with love and sorrow for you.
As we carried his body aloft in the air
past the uniformed brothers and sister all there.
I thought of the times he held me in the air
and tossed me higher than any would dare.
With a mind full of memories and soul of unrest,
I removed the flower that was pinned to my chest.
I placed it back on top of the box dyed tan,
near the truest of banners "The most Wonderful Man"
And I cried,
Mercy, mercy Uncle J,
I think that’s all I can handle today
You'll be waiting for me when I come back again
but until then, I love you my friend.
Mark David Walker
May 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
Three for the Price of One
Didn't get a chance to post yesterday. Sorry. things were a little crazy. But the extra time to observe gave me some pretty funny stuff. But first things first.
As you may have figured from this last week or so worth of posts, I am officially on the job hunt. I have been looking in all the usual places; Ward Employment Specialist, LDSjobs.org, newspaper classifieds, etc. But something that I had not thought to do was enlist the help of my loyal and most favored readers. If any of you know of any jobs that I might apply for, please let me know. I have years of warehouse experience in shipping and receiving and when my eyes are good, (which will be soon, we hope) I have nearly a decade on a forklift.
I also have a Bachelor's degree in English which helps with communications skills and as a general indicator of work ethic. I'd really like to find something as a writer or in education, but at this point, I'll take any job that I qualify for.
If nothing else, we could use your prayers in our behalf while we try and figure out which direction to go in.
And now, I'll make with the funny.
The first one comes courtesy of Beak.
After a few months of Bub getting on and off of the potty training band wagon (I don't think he's had an accident here in I don't remember how long), Beak is convinced that the boy finally has it figured out. He hasn't had any accidents here or at home in over a week now, and she is very proud of him.
I spoke to her last night and she said she had some blog-fodder for me.
I'll let her tell it.
"Bub came running up to me today saying, 'Potty! Potty!'. I told him that if he had to go he should hurry up and get to the bathroom and not wait. He looked at me and made a bee-line straight for the back door. I started to tell him the bathroom was the other way, but he was already out the door. By the time I got to the back porch, he was standing on the edge of the deck with his drawers around his ankles and he was making it rain!"
I guess we know why the flowers in Beak's backyard grow so nicely, now, don't we? Kinda makes you wish that the Googlemaps satellite was flying overhead at just that moment, huh? It'd serve the nosey beggars right.
Second was Peff telling the Boss last night that he knew how chicken nuggets were made.
"You take the chicken part and the nugget part and the crust part and you put them in the oven and bake them. When they are done, you put the crust part on the chicken part. Then you put them into a special box and then you put them in happy meals."
Not sure what that "nugget" part is, but I now know why I've always been a cheeseburger kind of guy.
Last of all is my favorite story of the night. The Boss and I had been seeking a date for a while, and last night we got a chance to relax a little, sans monkeys. Uncle C agreed to keep an eye on them so we could have a night out. About 9:30 we went to pick them up. We chatted with Beak and Uncle C for a few minutes, then piled the runts into the van and set out for home. On the way, I told the kids that when we got home, they would have to hurry and get their pajamas on, take a melatonin and get to bed.
Have I never mentioned this stuff before? With all apologies to Ben Franklin and his take on beer, melatonin is the real proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. All natural, doctor recommended, no side effect children's sleep aid. Our pediatrician recommended it to us when Peff was a wild child that would not go to bed.
I'll never forget the first time he took it. He was running in a small circle as fast as he could while singing a song. The Boss gave him a tablet and a drink of water and then he took off again. I turned my head for a minute and when I looked back, he had fallen to the ground like he'd been hit with an ax.
Out cold.
I guess what melatonin does is just flip the switch in your brain that reminds you that you're sleepy. He hadn't slept enough for so long, it smacked him like a hammer.
Usually, it takes about ten minutes before it works, but that first time...Magic happens. I swear by it. Melatonin and Tivo for Sunday football are pretty much how I keep from climbing a clock tower, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, I told the kids they had to take some as soon as they got home and get to bed. Peff, from the back seat pipes up, "Don't worry about the melatonin, Dad. Uncle C spiked our drinks at dinner, so we already took some."
Suddenly Haggis shouts, "He did what?!"
Peff repeated, "Uncle C put the 'Tonin in our drinks at dinner."
Haggis: "Oh, crap! I drank my drink and then Reaggers gave me hers! I drank 'em both!"
The Boss and I erupted with laughter.
I called Beak who confirmed that Uncle C, had in fact spiked Reaggers drink. She parted with it so easily because she knew it was loaded and didn't want to take it. She was more than happy to let Haggis take her fall.
Now, I don't know if it's possible to OD on Melatonin, but Haggis takes the same dose as we give Squizzle, so I doubt it. Either way, by the time we got home, I had to practically carry Haggis to bed.
Have you ever tried to push a twelve year old to bed while trying not to bust your guts open with hysterical laughter? That's a funny enough image for its own story.
Ah, well. Who knows what adventure we may find today?
Enough for now.
As you may have figured from this last week or so worth of posts, I am officially on the job hunt. I have been looking in all the usual places; Ward Employment Specialist, LDSjobs.org, newspaper classifieds, etc. But something that I had not thought to do was enlist the help of my loyal and most favored readers. If any of you know of any jobs that I might apply for, please let me know. I have years of warehouse experience in shipping and receiving and when my eyes are good, (which will be soon, we hope) I have nearly a decade on a forklift.
I also have a Bachelor's degree in English which helps with communications skills and as a general indicator of work ethic. I'd really like to find something as a writer or in education, but at this point, I'll take any job that I qualify for.
If nothing else, we could use your prayers in our behalf while we try and figure out which direction to go in.
And now, I'll make with the funny.
The first one comes courtesy of Beak.
After a few months of Bub getting on and off of the potty training band wagon (I don't think he's had an accident here in I don't remember how long), Beak is convinced that the boy finally has it figured out. He hasn't had any accidents here or at home in over a week now, and she is very proud of him.
I spoke to her last night and she said she had some blog-fodder for me.
I'll let her tell it.
"Bub came running up to me today saying, 'Potty! Potty!'. I told him that if he had to go he should hurry up and get to the bathroom and not wait. He looked at me and made a bee-line straight for the back door. I started to tell him the bathroom was the other way, but he was already out the door. By the time I got to the back porch, he was standing on the edge of the deck with his drawers around his ankles and he was making it rain!"
I guess we know why the flowers in Beak's backyard grow so nicely, now, don't we? Kinda makes you wish that the Googlemaps satellite was flying overhead at just that moment, huh? It'd serve the nosey beggars right.
Second was Peff telling the Boss last night that he knew how chicken nuggets were made.
"You take the chicken part and the nugget part and the crust part and you put them in the oven and bake them. When they are done, you put the crust part on the chicken part. Then you put them into a special box and then you put them in happy meals."
Not sure what that "nugget" part is, but I now know why I've always been a cheeseburger kind of guy.
Last of all is my favorite story of the night. The Boss and I had been seeking a date for a while, and last night we got a chance to relax a little, sans monkeys. Uncle C agreed to keep an eye on them so we could have a night out. About 9:30 we went to pick them up. We chatted with Beak and Uncle C for a few minutes, then piled the runts into the van and set out for home. On the way, I told the kids that when we got home, they would have to hurry and get their pajamas on, take a melatonin and get to bed.
Have I never mentioned this stuff before? With all apologies to Ben Franklin and his take on beer, melatonin is the real proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. All natural, doctor recommended, no side effect children's sleep aid. Our pediatrician recommended it to us when Peff was a wild child that would not go to bed.
I'll never forget the first time he took it. He was running in a small circle as fast as he could while singing a song. The Boss gave him a tablet and a drink of water and then he took off again. I turned my head for a minute and when I looked back, he had fallen to the ground like he'd been hit with an ax.
Out cold.
I guess what melatonin does is just flip the switch in your brain that reminds you that you're sleepy. He hadn't slept enough for so long, it smacked him like a hammer.
Usually, it takes about ten minutes before it works, but that first time...Magic happens. I swear by it. Melatonin and Tivo for Sunday football are pretty much how I keep from climbing a clock tower, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, I told the kids they had to take some as soon as they got home and get to bed. Peff, from the back seat pipes up, "Don't worry about the melatonin, Dad. Uncle C spiked our drinks at dinner, so we already took some."
Suddenly Haggis shouts, "He did what?!"
Peff repeated, "Uncle C put the 'Tonin in our drinks at dinner."
Haggis: "Oh, crap! I drank my drink and then Reaggers gave me hers! I drank 'em both!"
The Boss and I erupted with laughter.
I called Beak who confirmed that Uncle C, had in fact spiked Reaggers drink. She parted with it so easily because she knew it was loaded and didn't want to take it. She was more than happy to let Haggis take her fall.
Now, I don't know if it's possible to OD on Melatonin, but Haggis takes the same dose as we give Squizzle, so I doubt it. Either way, by the time we got home, I had to practically carry Haggis to bed.
Have you ever tried to push a twelve year old to bed while trying not to bust your guts open with hysterical laughter? That's a funny enough image for its own story.
Ah, well. Who knows what adventure we may find today?
Enough for now.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
It's the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Men
No runts today; Uncle C is taking the day off. I do have a nice little tale of destruction from about a week ago that may prove entertaining, however.
I was trying to put a lesson plan together while Peff, Reaggers, Bub, and Squizzle played in the next room. They had decided they wanted to play Lego Indiana Jones, and so I gave Squizzle a bottle and put him down for a nap on the couch. I came into the kitchen and sat at the table to work on my lesson.
After about five minutes, I hear Squizzle stomp into the kitchen. I was only half paying attention to him and he ran straight to the cabinet under the sink, or as it is occasionally called, the "Forbidden Cabinet of Magical Mysteries".
I know.
I should have a child lock on it, but I don't. Moms think of that crap, not Mr. Moms. I am not sure what the boy thinks is in there, but I can't believe that it is not a tremendous disappointment for him when he actually manages to get the door open. All that's in there is the tub of dishwasher soap, the roll of garbage bags, and some dishrags. Not exactly Blackbeard's treasure.
Nevertheless, if one keeps one's eye on the prize for long enough, eventually one will find success. Squizzle caught me only paying half attention and snuck into the "Forbidden Cabinet of Magical Mysteries" and pulled the tub of dishwasher detergent from it.
I am fully cognizant of the potential for catastrophic disaster here. My mother warned us thousands of times to keep the little kids out of dishwasher detergent because even though it smelled of wintergreen, it did not taste of it.
Mom had a friend with a child that had to have all kinds of horrible treatments at Primary Children's hospital because they innocently sampled dishwasher machine soap and so it was one of her major worries.
I turned around in time to catch Squizzle trying desperately to get the lid off the tub. While he was unsuccessful, there was plenty of detergent dust on the outside of the container to gain my complete attention. So I snatched him up and pitched him into the sink for a full-on scrub down.
While my back was turned, Peff and Reaggers decided this was their big shot to do some dirty work. They snuck in and snitched a bag of mini-marshmallows from the pantry. By the time I could pay enough attention to see what they were doing, the snack had escalated into a full-blown mini snowball fight.
I knew exactly were this was headed. If I stopped it they'd only find something else to destroy while I was picking up the marshmallows. I've seen this type of escalation before. You turn your back to clean up one thing, and the monsters find something worse to get into and annihilate. It is their S.O.P, and I am becoming somewhat of an expert observer.
Since I still had to go down and get a new outfit for Squizz, I made the call to ignore the destruction for a moment and focus on one thing at a time. What difference between half a bag of marshmallows strewn about the room or a whole bag?
I forgot one of the Cardinal rules of Destroying Angel care. NEVER; I say again, NEVER make the assumption that you have them figured out. As a wise man said, "When you make an assumption, you make an ass out of you...and...umption (or was it when you assume you make an ass of u and me? Wait...it's got to be your bull...or was it the butcher's?...Never mind. Forget I wrote it).
While I was dressing the baby, the Runts decided that throwing marshmallows was only about as half as fun as spitting them at one another. According to my theory, this type of escalation should only have occurred as punishment for me stopping them in their previous fun. I did nothing to deserve this! I let them have their way and this is how they repay my generosity?
By the time I got back upstairs, I found about two dozen soggy, sticky, goo-blobs stuck to my carpet as well as the kitchen linoleum, the walls, the TV, and in perhaps the most impressive display of five year old expectoration ever...The kitchen ceiling.
That one was impressive enough that I actually stopped being angry long enough to ask for a demonstration of how it was accomplished. Imagine my surprise to find that both Peff and Bub were able to pull it off. Hidden talents you never thought your kids might have. File "spitting marshmallows to the ceiling" right between "Make yourself belch" and "Use your armpit to create flatulence noises".
Who knew the sins of my youth would haunt me so long?
Enough for now, I gotta go spend the rest of my afternoon hunting on the job boards. Wish me luck!
I was trying to put a lesson plan together while Peff, Reaggers, Bub, and Squizzle played in the next room. They had decided they wanted to play Lego Indiana Jones, and so I gave Squizzle a bottle and put him down for a nap on the couch. I came into the kitchen and sat at the table to work on my lesson.
After about five minutes, I hear Squizzle stomp into the kitchen. I was only half paying attention to him and he ran straight to the cabinet under the sink, or as it is occasionally called, the "Forbidden Cabinet of Magical Mysteries".
I know.
I should have a child lock on it, but I don't. Moms think of that crap, not Mr. Moms. I am not sure what the boy thinks is in there, but I can't believe that it is not a tremendous disappointment for him when he actually manages to get the door open. All that's in there is the tub of dishwasher soap, the roll of garbage bags, and some dishrags. Not exactly Blackbeard's treasure.
Nevertheless, if one keeps one's eye on the prize for long enough, eventually one will find success. Squizzle caught me only paying half attention and snuck into the "Forbidden Cabinet of Magical Mysteries" and pulled the tub of dishwasher detergent from it.
I am fully cognizant of the potential for catastrophic disaster here. My mother warned us thousands of times to keep the little kids out of dishwasher detergent because even though it smelled of wintergreen, it did not taste of it.
Mom had a friend with a child that had to have all kinds of horrible treatments at Primary Children's hospital because they innocently sampled dishwasher machine soap and so it was one of her major worries.
I turned around in time to catch Squizzle trying desperately to get the lid off the tub. While he was unsuccessful, there was plenty of detergent dust on the outside of the container to gain my complete attention. So I snatched him up and pitched him into the sink for a full-on scrub down.
While my back was turned, Peff and Reaggers decided this was their big shot to do some dirty work. They snuck in and snitched a bag of mini-marshmallows from the pantry. By the time I could pay enough attention to see what they were doing, the snack had escalated into a full-blown mini snowball fight.
I knew exactly were this was headed. If I stopped it they'd only find something else to destroy while I was picking up the marshmallows. I've seen this type of escalation before. You turn your back to clean up one thing, and the monsters find something worse to get into and annihilate. It is their S.O.P, and I am becoming somewhat of an expert observer.
Since I still had to go down and get a new outfit for Squizz, I made the call to ignore the destruction for a moment and focus on one thing at a time. What difference between half a bag of marshmallows strewn about the room or a whole bag?
I forgot one of the Cardinal rules of Destroying Angel care. NEVER; I say again, NEVER make the assumption that you have them figured out. As a wise man said, "When you make an assumption, you make an ass out of you...and...umption (or was it when you assume you make an ass of u and me? Wait...it's got to be your bull...or was it the butcher's?...Never mind. Forget I wrote it).
While I was dressing the baby, the Runts decided that throwing marshmallows was only about as half as fun as spitting them at one another. According to my theory, this type of escalation should only have occurred as punishment for me stopping them in their previous fun. I did nothing to deserve this! I let them have their way and this is how they repay my generosity?
By the time I got back upstairs, I found about two dozen soggy, sticky, goo-blobs stuck to my carpet as well as the kitchen linoleum, the walls, the TV, and in perhaps the most impressive display of five year old expectoration ever...The kitchen ceiling.
That one was impressive enough that I actually stopped being angry long enough to ask for a demonstration of how it was accomplished. Imagine my surprise to find that both Peff and Bub were able to pull it off. Hidden talents you never thought your kids might have. File "spitting marshmallows to the ceiling" right between "Make yourself belch" and "Use your armpit to create flatulence noises".
Who knew the sins of my youth would haunt me so long?
Enough for now, I gotta go spend the rest of my afternoon hunting on the job boards. Wish me luck!
Monday, May 24, 2010
Shut Up and Eat Your Manna...
I am almost certain that at this time a week ago, I was mowing a lawn and contemplating firing up the ol' swamp cooler. I didn't because for obvious reasons (if you've read my post "The Rooftop"), I have a love/hate relationship with swamp cooler maintenance.
Probably a good decision. It looks like December out there. Snowing like a son of a gun, and showing no sign of stopping. I'm actually wondering if maybe I didn't clean out the fireplace a bit too early...
Went to church yesterday and had a hard time feeling it. I almost always find something new to satisfy my curious mind, but for some reason I just felt tuned out. You have those kind of days now and again. The Boss and I sent the kids into do a quick pickup on the house while we sat in the car for a few minutes and talked about it. Squizzle sat on her lap playing with buttons and occasionally honking the horn (which he thinks is simultaneously the funniest and most terrifying thing ever).
Oh, yeah, I suppose I should mention that we have a new (to us) car. The Boss's Dad found a solid used Toyota Sienna for us to use. The Dodge is looking more and more like it has seen it's last tire change. If there is one thing in the universe that Pop hates more than crooked politicians, it's an unreliable automobile. Knowing that we were certainly in no position to do anything about it; he and mom stepped in to help.
I'm beyond grateful, yet conflicted. You'd think I'd have gotten used to the fact that a major portion of this little exercise has been about the Lord humbling one of his more arrogant children. You'd think that I'd have figured out by now that I'm simply not going to be allowed to rely on my own force of will to face the obstacles in my path. You'd think I'd just learn to accept the fact that the Lord's help will come in the way that He wants, not how I want.
But I haven't.
It's part of the reason I was so tuned out at church. We were so dam...darned close to being able to take care of that kind of thing ourselves and now we are right back into the cavernous maw of uncertainty. It's the kind of situation that makes a guy feel like his Man Card is about to be irrevocably suspended.
You are trying as best you can to provide for your family, and circumstances beyond your control seem to work against you. It is awfully frustrating. The Boss and I were wondering "what next?" when I mentioned that now that coaching wrestling isn't going to happen, and teaching English isn't going to happen, and Seminary isn't going to happen; Well, heck. My English degree does me about as much good as if I'd dropped out of high school instead.
"We'd have been better off if we hadn't left the warehouse job to begin with", I told her.
That's when it hit me. I've been teaching Old Testament in Sunday School, and all I could hear when I said that was "were it not better for us to return into Egypt?" (Numbers 14:3).
I was sounding suspiciously like Edward G. Robinson in "The Ten Commandments.
Then I heard the still small voice say to me "Shut up and eat your manna." (I know; the Holy Ghost doesn't tell most people to shut up, but most people don't talk as much as me).
I don't get to choose the method of deliverance from my wilderness. No one does. He sent manna because it was what the children of Isreal needed. They wanted meat (That didn't turn out so good. Read Numbers 11:20 for the funniest scripture ever). They needed manna. Yesterday after church, I read why.
Numbers 8:2-7
2 And thou shalt remember all the way which the Lord thy God led thee these forty years in the wilderness, to humble thee, and to prove thee, to know what was in thine heart, whether thou wouldest keep his commandments, or no.
3 And he humbled thee, and suffered thee to hunger, and fed thee with manna, which thou knewest not, neither did thy fathers know; that he might make thee know that man doth not live by bread only, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of the Lord doth man live.
4 Thy raiment waxed not old upon thee, neither did thy foot swell, these forty years.
5 Thou shalt also consider in thine heart, that, as a man chasteneth his son, so the Lord thy God chasteneth thee.
6 Therefore thou shalt keep the commandments of the Lord thy God, to walk in his ways, and to fear him.
7 For the Lord thy God bringeth thee into a good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and depths that spring out of valleys and hills;
This is why humility is the "Manliest" of virtues. You have to be really tough to accept the Lord's help when what you really want is to prove to him you can do it yourself. That line about "Thou knewest not" really struck me. The Lord told the people he was going to lead them to the Promised Land in a way they were not familiar with so that they were forced to rely on him. They got to the Promised Land, just not in a way they ever expected.
"Shut up and eat your manna"
About as good a lesson as I'm likely to ever learn.
So back to my original story. After the Boss and I talked in the car for a minute, we came in and decided to do something nice for someone. We got to cooking dinner and the Boss made a peach cobbler with enough to take a pan to the guy in our ward who had helped me with the Seminary internship. We went out to the car, the Boss turned the key and...
Nothing. It was deader than the Cubbies bullpen. Squizzle had turned on the lights when he was playing with things and as the controls are all still pretty unfamiliar, we didn't catch it until 5 hours later when the battery was gone.
If the Lord is leading us to the Promised Land, I am getting the nagging suspicion that we are going to have to walk. Cars just ain't cutting it for us.
The Boss went in to call Pop and have him come give us a jump while I sat down and contemplated whether or not manna tasted like peach cobbler; and if it pairs well with vanilla ice cream.
I wonder what that "Valley" is gonna look like?
Probably a good decision. It looks like December out there. Snowing like a son of a gun, and showing no sign of stopping. I'm actually wondering if maybe I didn't clean out the fireplace a bit too early...
Went to church yesterday and had a hard time feeling it. I almost always find something new to satisfy my curious mind, but for some reason I just felt tuned out. You have those kind of days now and again. The Boss and I sent the kids into do a quick pickup on the house while we sat in the car for a few minutes and talked about it. Squizzle sat on her lap playing with buttons and occasionally honking the horn (which he thinks is simultaneously the funniest and most terrifying thing ever).
Oh, yeah, I suppose I should mention that we have a new (to us) car. The Boss's Dad found a solid used Toyota Sienna for us to use. The Dodge is looking more and more like it has seen it's last tire change. If there is one thing in the universe that Pop hates more than crooked politicians, it's an unreliable automobile. Knowing that we were certainly in no position to do anything about it; he and mom stepped in to help.
I'm beyond grateful, yet conflicted. You'd think I'd have gotten used to the fact that a major portion of this little exercise has been about the Lord humbling one of his more arrogant children. You'd think that I'd have figured out by now that I'm simply not going to be allowed to rely on my own force of will to face the obstacles in my path. You'd think I'd just learn to accept the fact that the Lord's help will come in the way that He wants, not how I want.
But I haven't.
It's part of the reason I was so tuned out at church. We were so dam...darned close to being able to take care of that kind of thing ourselves and now we are right back into the cavernous maw of uncertainty. It's the kind of situation that makes a guy feel like his Man Card is about to be irrevocably suspended.
You are trying as best you can to provide for your family, and circumstances beyond your control seem to work against you. It is awfully frustrating. The Boss and I were wondering "what next?" when I mentioned that now that coaching wrestling isn't going to happen, and teaching English isn't going to happen, and Seminary isn't going to happen; Well, heck. My English degree does me about as much good as if I'd dropped out of high school instead.
"We'd have been better off if we hadn't left the warehouse job to begin with", I told her.
That's when it hit me. I've been teaching Old Testament in Sunday School, and all I could hear when I said that was "were it not better for us to return into Egypt?" (Numbers 14:3).
I was sounding suspiciously like Edward G. Robinson in "The Ten Commandments.
Then I heard the still small voice say to me "Shut up and eat your manna." (I know; the Holy Ghost doesn't tell most people to shut up, but most people don't talk as much as me).
I don't get to choose the method of deliverance from my wilderness. No one does. He sent manna because it was what the children of Isreal needed. They wanted meat (That didn't turn out so good. Read Numbers 11:20 for the funniest scripture ever). They needed manna. Yesterday after church, I read why.
Numbers 8:2-7
2 And thou shalt remember all the way which the Lord thy God led thee these forty years in the wilderness, to humble thee, and to prove thee, to know what was in thine heart, whether thou wouldest keep his commandments, or no.
3 And he humbled thee, and suffered thee to hunger, and fed thee with manna, which thou knewest not, neither did thy fathers know; that he might make thee know that man doth not live by bread only, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of the Lord doth man live.
4 Thy raiment waxed not old upon thee, neither did thy foot swell, these forty years.
5 Thou shalt also consider in thine heart, that, as a man chasteneth his son, so the Lord thy God chasteneth thee.
6 Therefore thou shalt keep the commandments of the Lord thy God, to walk in his ways, and to fear him.
7 For the Lord thy God bringeth thee into a good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and depths that spring out of valleys and hills;
This is why humility is the "Manliest" of virtues. You have to be really tough to accept the Lord's help when what you really want is to prove to him you can do it yourself. That line about "Thou knewest not" really struck me. The Lord told the people he was going to lead them to the Promised Land in a way they were not familiar with so that they were forced to rely on him. They got to the Promised Land, just not in a way they ever expected.
"Shut up and eat your manna"
About as good a lesson as I'm likely to ever learn.
So back to my original story. After the Boss and I talked in the car for a minute, we came in and decided to do something nice for someone. We got to cooking dinner and the Boss made a peach cobbler with enough to take a pan to the guy in our ward who had helped me with the Seminary internship. We went out to the car, the Boss turned the key and...
Nothing. It was deader than the Cubbies bullpen. Squizzle had turned on the lights when he was playing with things and as the controls are all still pretty unfamiliar, we didn't catch it until 5 hours later when the battery was gone.
If the Lord is leading us to the Promised Land, I am getting the nagging suspicion that we are going to have to walk. Cars just ain't cutting it for us.
The Boss went in to call Pop and have him come give us a jump while I sat down and contemplated whether or not manna tasted like peach cobbler; and if it pairs well with vanilla ice cream.
I wonder what that "Valley" is gonna look like?
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