Grief

Sometimes the news comes quick. Sometimes the news comes slow. No matter how or when it comes, grief travels in the wake of the news. Grief is heavy, weighty, a burden, especially when it involves someone deeply loved. Grief is not meant to be carried alone. It’s too heavy and may last a while—and that’s ok. That’s what family and friends are for, to share the load. Jesus stood outside the tomb of his friend and wept but He did not weep alone. It was a deep, human moment. “ Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted ” (Matt 5:4). If anyone knows how we feel in grief, it’s Him. But His grief did not linger long, as at the mention of his name, Lazarus came forth. We are not meant to dwell in grief, but should leave room enough for it. Let it run its course. Like the song says, “ Every Storm Runs Out Of Rain .” Another song says, “ The storm We will dance as it breaks The storm It will give as it takes And all of our pain is washed away Don't cry or be afraid Some things...

Windows Down

When I have the opportunity, I drive with the windows down. Most often someone else is in the car with me and that's ok. Most of my passengers (my wife, my daughter, my niece) are "windows up" kind of people--which is fine. That is a different kind of comfort. But when alone, the windows go down. Sometimes my son is "windows down." He works in that environment anyway. He doesn't think anything of it, I'm sure.

Perhaps I should clarify: when the weather's nice, the windows go down. But not every time. Sometimes when I am able to drive in the rain, the window comes down just far enough to put my hand out and get stung with a million high-fives by heavy drops. Sometimes the bite of cold winter air snaps one to a new level of consciousness. Still cautious of the deeply humid summertime air of the South, though--got heat-stoke once a few years back while driving a couple hours with no air conditioning in the middle of June. Maybe it was July. Bad stuff.

But mostly it's "60-4 Air Conditioning" (drive 60 and roll down 4) when I can. Or 70-2. Or 80-2. etc.

I like to feel "outside" when driving, to feel the temperature changes, to take in the the smell of freshly mown hay, to feel the wind cut across the road and tussle my hair in unnatural directions. You can't let your hair down when the window's up.

"Inside" is for commoners, for that's where the work is, but "outside"-- now, that's Regal. Liberating. Why should one leave the walls of a building and climb in between the walls of a car when this is the closest one gets to flying? To smell like the wind, the un-bottled scent of Peter Pan, free of charge!

You know, my son won a bet because the window was down. His work truck was following another truck hauling a couch that was losing it's stuffing in the wind. Someone said, "I'll bet money you can't grab a piece of that puff" as they barreled down the interstate. He put his hand out and harvested a piece in mere seconds. All because the window was down (somebody still owes him money, btw).

Dogs are happiest when the window's down. Cats just run off. Well, dogs do too, but that was another story. Speaking from experience here.

There's a big world outside so I drive with the windows down. Massive clouds pass in their shipping lanes above, all in the guise of camels, rabbits, dogs and horses rearing up on hind legs far above the treetops. That big hard sun beats down big people in a big hard world (Vedder). Drive in the mountains and bend your neck to see the top.

Maybe, just maybe, one day I'll get a bike. It's just a maybe. Not building up hopes about it, but to fly down the road with the earth spinning under my feet . . . not a Convertible--that's too cautious. A bike.



"From the White Sands
To the Canyonlands
To the redwood stands
To the Barren Lands


Sunrise on the road behind
Sunset on the road ahead"

Until next time, it's "Windows Down."

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