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04 November 2005

Coasting Along

I spend a lot of time in the car talking to God, or atleast I used to. We have some really good conversations. A real, one-on-one, if you will. It started when I was living in the middle of nowhere and had to drive further towards the tip of nowhere and then catch a float plane. It's funny, in hindsight that time in my life was probably one of the most beautiful and terrifying all at once - for everything. I would pray for two particular reasons, and these aren't in order. One would because of fear. A typical drive could last between an hour and a half to three hours depending on the cargo in tow, and bring forth rain, sleet, snow and sunshine. The mountains would wind and dip and you were thankful for 4 wheel drive in a truck with a stick shift and good brakes. Too many corners had too many crosses marking the spots where someone just didn't make it home. But the other reason was because it stole my breath away in every ethereal sense. It was as if it wasn't real and I was reminded of a very simple part of the bible that I once read. It was about lack of reading or writing or those things in those areas that mere man believed that we need to possess in order to believe. But this particular verse had none of that. It said that we have been given this landscape, this breathtaking backdrop - the mountains and trees and rivers and oceans so that we are without excuse of a Hand greater than our own. It said nothing about going to church on every sunday. Mentioned nothing of four letter words my mother frowned upon. Never brought up that there would never be moments of doubts and years of challenge and shiney white days to last forever. But it did say that I could not deny. None of this was an accident. Funny, when I look back on those days they were very indicative of two encompassing things - they were both magnificent and scary as hell. In those moments of drives that stole the wind from my lungs, there was no one else around. Just me and God. It was like that conversation you have when all the fight has left your body - no more pretenses, no more pointing fingers, no more anger. Just the reality that it's time you talked and say what was really on your heart and mind. It was those drives that gave me glimpses of the Big Picture - and how many thousands upon thousands of smaller pictures made up that big one. And how many thousands of smaller pictures again made up those. Funny how I never remembered anything I was ever taught in church or sunday school, nothing that I was ever led to believe by some other mere mortal. We, me and God, found common ground in that old truck. I think it's probably those drives that kept me sane and made me continue to believe.

Yesterday I talked to Him in my car. It was tough at first because it's been awhile and I needed to unseize a few gears before I get going really good. But it came and conversation flowed and I was thankful. Interestingly enough the whole conversation had nothing to do with what I was doing - either right or wrong. More along the lines of everything to do with nothing, but in the end, something got figured out.

Smarts and I had coffee with dad yesterday morning. We nearly had him convinced to burn the old house and drive to Mexico, introduce him to tequila. Smarts said she had dibs on the worm. Dad asked what the worm did. Once we explained it to him, he wondered if we could possibly find a bottle with two in it. I told him we would see what we could do.

"Discovery consists of seeing what everybody has seen and thinking what nobody has thought."
Albert Szent-Gyorgyi (1893-?)

1 comment:

His Star said...

hmmm...i talk to angels. i'm not brave enough to talk to the big guy yet.

plus...sometimes i slip and curse. i think angels are less critical of that :)