Every time I move up to a new station in life, I think, “Ok, this is it. This is the level where my peer group can successfully manage a public restroom without turning it into a post-apocalyptic wasteland.” And every time I’m wrong.
Monthly Archives: April 2011
The Holy Montage
If you’ve seen more than three movies, you have probably seen a montage. You know – the part of the movie where the hero is going through grueling preparation for the big event. The montage is the part where the hero learns the skills he’ll need to be ready to land that crane kick, steal the money, stick the landing, step up 2 the streets, kiss Julie Styles, etc.
Movies usually fly by the action in the montage because it’s not interesting to watch.* Some guy is just doing the same thing over and over. We just want to see the good the stuff – the big payoff scene.
The truth is – the payoff scene doesn’t happen without the montage. You don’t make it to the big game/final match/glamorous felony/Julie Styles’ porch/rain dance until you’ve gone through the grind that most people won’t bother to ever attempt.
So if you love something, if you aspire to be a certain kind of person, then I’m imploring you to do the work. Do your situps. Crumple some paper and throw it on the floor. Miss your landing. But then get it right. Because I want to cheer for you in your big scene. I want to be carrying you around on my shoulders after you score your goal unit in the big match. I want to give you a standing-o after your big performance. I want to be your Julia Styles!**
Easter is the perfect time of year to remember that you’re saved, and the good guys win, and all you have to do is love your God and your neighbors. Relax and do whatever it is that God made you love. Happy Easter.
*Patently untrue in dance movies.
**(Samantha)
Music from Old Friends
The Builders
My quest to read the entire Bible cover-to-cover has led me through the book of Nehemiah. Nehemiah was King Artaxerxes’ cup bearer, which I assume was basically like an ancient personal bartender. Scripture is unclear as to whether or not he wore a cummerbund and a bow-tie, so I like to think that he did.
The king granted Nehemiah permission to rebuild the wall of his home city in Judah, which was in ruins. Nehemiah returned to his hometown with a lot of help, and set about rebuilding the wall. He was met with taunting ofrom scoffers, who were very vocal in their opposition to what seemed like a foolish task:
“What are those feeble Jews doing? Will they restore their wall? Will they offer sacrifices? Will they finish in a day? Can they bring the stones back to life from those heaps of rubble—burned as they are? What they are building—even a fox climbing up on it would break down their wall of stones!”
As the city was rebuilt, opposition grew, and the builders were threatened with violence. Nehemiah took care of the oppressed, protected the wall builders, and encouraged his friends. He made sure the job got done. Eventually, it did.
Nehemiah and his builders reminded me a lot of our artists and dreamers and creators. I want to say thank you to all of the builders in my life – the writers, the painters, the teachers, the ministers, the musicians, the people who live lives worth imitating.
Building is terrifying, because the creator is making something new and putting a piece of the creator in it. It’s hard, scary work, and there will definitely be people on the internet who hate whatever you create.
If you’re a creator, keep building. We need it. You inspire us, entertain us, teach us, and encourage us to become builders as well. Thanks for being brave enough to turn rubble into something beautiful. You know who you are.
Friday Fact
When I was 21, what was the first alcoholic beverage I purchased? Mike’s Hard Lemonade.
Yep.
The Good Lord and the Bad Shoulder
I haven’t written for a long time. The reason why is twofold. First, work has been busy, to say the least. Second, I have one arm.
Well, that’s not entirely true. I have two arms, but I can only use one of them.
A few weeks ago, I was driving to work on a misty Monday morning. I always listen to podcasts on the way to work. It was hard to focus on the subject, though, because the bus driving next to me was so loud. Sadly, once the bus drove on, I noticed that the noise was actually my back left tire exploding.
Rush hour highway blowout!
Luckily, I was able to pull off the highway and into a parking lot. Quick inspection confirmed the worst – my tire was eviscerited. It was like my tire had picked a fight with Wolverine and lost. It was like my tire and my wheel broke up. Very publicly.
Anyway, I didn’t have the best tools to fix the flat, so I called my trusty uncle to bring his industrial jack and help me out.
After I hung up, I reached into the back seat to grab my puny jack and get started.
Boom. White light.
Let’s pause here. If you know me personally, you know that I have a horrible right shoulder. It dislocates all the time. It’s been popping out for a decade. Usually, I can knock it back in by ramiing it against a wall, a bleacher, a boat dock, etc. Or it spasms back into place.
Not this time. My shoulder was out. As in, below my armpit out. As in, I couldn’t use my arm out. As in, I created new bad words out.
Keep in mind I’m half-way in the back seat, with my butt in the air, right off the highway during rush hour.
I tried all the usual tricks. Wiggling, pushing it against the seat, flexing it to help the spasms, nothing. I could feel everything inside my shoudler rubbing, scratching, maybe tearing.
I managed to prop myself up by my forehead and dialed my uncle and Sam with one hand.
My uncle tried to get me out but I could get up without my arm going nuts.
With nothing left to try, Sam and my uncle called the ambulance.
Talk about embarrassing. Hi, I’m Joey, you’re talking to my butt because it’s in the air and my face is down and my arm fell off and I’m accidentally using adult interjections.
Anyway, these pros were able to get me out of the truck, hit me with some crazy pain meds 8x stronger than morphine, and get me to the hospital for x-rays.
Props to my wife for taking away my phone when I kept calling my boss. And for not taking any pictures of me when my butt was in the air, surrounded by EMTs.
That’s the bad shoulder part. Now the God part.
First, I’m blessed to have an uncle and a wife willing to drop everything to help me. Second, my boss and co-workers have been amazing. Even though we’re really busy, they’ve let me know it’s ok to heal and get better. It’s been great to have that support.
Finally, there’s the issue of finances. I don’t have great insurance so none of what I described was covered. When our tax return almost exactly matched the ER and ambulance bill, it became pretty obvious where the money came from.
So thanks to family, friends and God for having my back. And my sad, exploded shoulder, which probably looks like my blown out tire.
The shadow proves the sunshine, as they say.
Also, I hope I get a robot arm.
