Back Again.

So my break from blogging was  a pinch longer than I would have liked, however, I did not break from writing.  My final paper grade just came in, so I am officially done now with my EN 302 summer online course.  But, didn't you just get done with EN 400?  Yes I know, another class taken our of order.  Tis the way my Writing Minor has gone for me.  At any rate, this English class is the cause for my absence, for any (hypothetical) regular reader, or arbitrary visitor who may be concerned as to my whereabouts.  Things may get hectic again, come school year, which is right around the corner (yikes), but it is my hope that I get back into writing regularly.

I had three main papers in English class, Creative Nonfiction, that paralleled the definition of a noun: Profile (person), Place/Event (Place, and an event could be a thing of sorts), Idea (Idea).  With those there was daily work, and minor "papers" such as a periodical essay, a bagatelle, and a final essay.  There were also comments on different readings to be done over the course of the session which, in whole, counted for about the same as on of the minor assignments.

Overall, the class was a really nice experience.  I got to work at my own pace, sort of, and I learned some new techniques and ideas, which is always nice, as well as reenforced some old ones.  I'm looking forward to only having one more English class before finishing my Writing Minor, yet at the same time, I'm kind of sad.  It was having writing classes that really kept me writing.  I do have this blog of course...but the motivation fades when I don't have due dates to make...at least, not ones that I'll be graded on.

After I was all done with my work for this class, I was sitting around and a conversation began playing in my head.  Not one that I have had before, but a new conversation all together.  Too often, think of ideas similar to this one.  Maybe it's a movie idea, or a good prompt for an essay, or something with an equal amount of fuel for writing that won't burn out easily.  And, too often, I let these ideas slide.  I think, Oh I'll writing them down later.  Yea, right.  I needed to capture this idea if it was to have a chance at being anything at all, for me, or anyone else.  Maybe it wouldn't become anything at all, but that would be guaranteed if I didn't write it down at all.  This is something we all need to do.  Because it may not be anything you like, but someday, someone out there may benefit from it.

The Journey to the Cross

 
I wanted to take a break from my EPIC story telling to share some words I came across while reading about God's Epic story.  I found myself falling short and was compelled to read at that moment.  I have this bible that my parents gave me for my birthday last year.  It's put together by Max Lucado and is called Grace for the Moment.  It has readings for 365 days starting with January 1st and ending with December 31st.  Each day takes a little from the Old Testament, Psalms, Proverbs, and then from the New Testament.  Each day's reading also has an excerpt from one of Max Lucado's many inspirational books and a single verse right above the excerpt.  I regrettably missed a few days over the weekend.  So tonight, as I begin the selection of passages for June 18th (in an attempt to catch up to today), the words really hit me and I felt a conviction to share what I read.  It's something that we may often forget in our daily lives and even as we worship.  Max Lucado puts it so well.  God really has given him a gift for writing; a gift for the right words.  The verse that was used above these words was:

"God said through the prophets that his Christ would suffer and die.  And now God has made these things come true in this way." (Acts 3:13)

and the words are these:

Jesus died...on purpose.  No surprise.  No hesitation.  No faltering.

You can tell a lot about a person by the way he dies.  And the way Jesus marched to his death leaves no doubt: he had come to earth for this moment.  Read the words of Peter.  "Jesus was given to you, and with the help of those who don't know the law, you put him to death by nailing him to a cross.  But this was God's Plan which he had made long ago; he knew all this would happen" (Acts 2:23).


No, the journey to the Cross didn't begin in Jericho.  It didn't begin in Galilee.  It didn't begin in Nazareth.  It didn't even begin in Bethlehem.


The journey to the Cross began long before.  As the echo of the crunching of the fruit was still sounding in the garden, Jesus was leaving for Calvary.
                                                                         from And The Angels Were Silent

The Epic Continues...some more...

It was a city.  At least it might as well have been.  The airport was HUGE!!!!!  I knew they were bigger than the Ford Airport but WOW!!!  Hallways and people and kiosks and tv screens with flight arrivals and departures...so much was so much going on, I didn't quite know what to make of it all.  And, as I stood there taking it all in, only one thought swimming through all three of our heads was clear enough, graspable, sane amidst all the crazy: we were hungry.  After walking for a little while, (the moving sidewalks helped!! More about those later.) and being told not to take the tram because that would bring us to far, only to walk to the spot were the tram would have taken us, we found a food court where we ate.  I had Chinese food and an A&W Rootbeer on tap...ah.  There's nothing quite like A&W on tap.  It brings me back to when I used to eat at the A&W back home during the summer's; days long since passed.  Days when I knew where I was and it felt like the friends that I knew then were going to be around forever...if only.

Our entire layover was two hours and some change, but by the time we got to the food court, ate, and figured out where we needed to go, it was time to go there.  I read some more of The Art of Racing in the Rain while we waited for our plane to arrive.  And soon, we were up.  This flight was longer, of course, yet it had less accommodations: beverages like the last flight, only one type of snack.  The plane was slightly larger than the last one.  Three seats on one side rather than just 2 seats on both sides.  I read some more book and caught some more of the view of the earth below.  I think I slept a little too.

When we arrived at Kansas City International Airport (in Missouri, not Kansas) and as we waited for our luggage, I didn't experience any of the infamous jet lag that everyone talks about.  My parents and I grabbed our luggage and took a shuttle bus over to the car rental agency.  Avis was where my gracious aunt and uncle had rented our car from.  They arrived before us and set everything up.  Apparently, it's not common practice to rent a car for someone else because the gentleman behind the counter was a bit confused as to why we were trying to rent a car in someone else's name.  Thanks to another Avis employee, whom I'm assuming helped Cathy and Bruce when they came through earlier, told the confused individual there was a contract in the back for my dad to sign.  So, we got that sorted out and then went out to get our car.  We had to explain the story to the guy outside but he said if we filled out paperwork that we were okay and let us go.

My dad drove.  I sat in the front at my mom's suggestion and she took the back.  I found the address to our hotel from the itinerary and punched it into the Garvin GPS that came with the car.  My dad was impressed that I was able to work the thing seeing as I had rarely used one before.  I thought it pretty intuitive but I guess that's the generation I'm in: able to pick up an electronic device and know how to work it within seconds.  And so, off we were, toward the hotel and the near end of the beginning of our trip.

The Epic Continues...

My first plane ride...ever.

After getting everything packed and dropping the dog off at the kennel, we arrived at Ford Airport.  I had been there before on a few a occasions but it had been a while.  It's a small airport that currently only has small twin prop planes.  I didn't know what one of these was until this point due to my never having flown.  There was a short scare because we couldn't find my boarding passes (one from here to Minneapolis and another from there to Kansas City) but the young girl at the desk was kind enough to offer to print copies of them out for me.

Security check.  I have been through one of these before.  It was about four years ago and it was so that my classmates and I could go on a ferry to Ellis and Staten Island.  I can't say that I remember it much but I'm pretty sure I didn't have to take my shoes off. At any rate, it was fast paced and exciting and before I knew it I was on the plane.  Now, it should be noted that I had been on a plane prior to this.  It was however an old army plane and it was on display for tour.  Funny enough, that had also been here during Ford Airport Day.  That was my "big plane experience" till this point.  Now, I was on a plane, one that was going to take off any minute with me in it.  My parents had flown before; my mom flew to visit her mom (rest her soul) and my dad flew when the two of them went on their honeymoon.  Needless to say it's been a while for them both.  They didn't seem too bothered though.  They were like seasoned veterans.  I, on the other hand, was as noob as you can get.

We taxied around for a little a while before we took off.  I know that taxiing is what everyone does before their flight takes off and that it's an unimportant detail but I wanted an excuse to try out my flying vernacular.  As I was saying...  We taxied around for a little while at about five to ten miles an hour before we took off.  This isn't so bad, I thought.  Before we did, though, the flight attendant or stewardess or whatever it is that's politically correct these days, instructed us to look over the emergency escape instructions in the back pocket of the seat in front of us, as well as what to do if we were one of the individuals fortunate enough to be seated in the emergency exit row.  I was reminded, at this time, of a favorite comedian of mine who talked about sitting in that seat.  It made me feel a little better.

Shortly after, we were on the runway and the slow crawling pace that we had been traveling at was no longer slow or crawling.  And like that, the ground fell away and we were up in the air.  Normally, we drive to Minnesota.  My cousin and his family live in a suburb over and both families have a cabin on a lake a bit further West so we make the trip about twice a year.  The plane ride there was well under half the time.

I didn't really know what to expect.  It was a mixture of smooth flying and turbulence.  I have to say my stomach felt a little queasy during the bumpy portion of the ride but what what I got to see out the window while there wasn't any turbulence was worth all the butterflies in the world.  The view was outstanding...and a privilege.  It's amazing what beauty is all around us all of the time.  We don't see it, though, because we're in it.  We're just a small part of the big painting of life.  And the Master Painter get's to see it everyday.  What a privilege it was to see the world from that angle.  Trees, and rivers and lakes...oh and squares of farmland that went on for miles.  I could go on and on.  There were complimentary snacks aboard, as well as beverages.  All we could eat, pretty much.  Cookies and peanuts and pretzels, along with juice and pop.  Alcohol, though available, wasn't free.

Eventually, the fasten your seatbelt light came on, which I hadn't dared to unclip in the first place, and either the flight attendant/stewardess or the pilot told us that we would would be landing in a few minutes.  This, I've decided, is the part of the flight that I enjoy the least.  My very first landing.  It wasn't actually half bad though.  Much better than the ones that were to come.  There was a movable catwalk that greeted us as we moved toward the door of the plane.  (When we had gotten on in Iron Mountain, we went outside and boarded via the door that folded down into stairs.  Here, we were covered by the catwalk as we left the plane and entered into the Minneapolis - St. Paul International Airport.

To be continued...

Walking the walk

I've think I may have learned, or re-learned, over the past several weeks, that taking the path of least resistance, though quite obviously the easiest, isn't always the best...  And it doesn't help when it seems like no matter what I do, I just can't please everyone (something that I try very hard to do as much as I can).  Someone is going to be unhappy with the outcome.

A story of epic proportions!

Let’s see, where do I start?

From the beginning, of course!  I must confess that I won’t have written this all in order but I’ll publish it that way for your reading convenience.  Never mind, pretend I didn’t say that.  I should have started with this: Allow me to start from the beginning.  See now that sounds a lot better doesn’t it.  These days, however, it seems that stories are quite successful when the start somewhere in the middle, or even at the end for that matter, have a “flash back” and work their way toward wherever the reader was started at.  Water for Elephants, The Art of Racing in the Rain, and some other third, unnamed story for symmetry, are all examples of stories that start somewhere other than the beginning of the story.  I don’t so much care if I’m successful, as much as I just want to get my story out there.  I don’t need any gimmicks to make it a popular story. Having said that, I now must confess to you that I am beginning to write this story as I sit, nearly at the end of the journey.  But beginning my story at the end isn’t what’s going to make it a good story.  What’s going to make it a good story is that it’s a good story.  Like I said, I don’t need any gimmick’s to draw a crowd.  So, as I sit here in this black, leather, terminal chair that was not designed to sleep in, in this impressive, city-of-an-airport, I start to type away at my laptop and reflect, recounting my tale of excitation, celebration, and then, frustration.

And so it begins…

Goodbye to the Graduates

Saying goodbye is never something I look forward too.  Although, I, myself, am not graduating.  I have a few good friends that are.  And I'd like to say that I know I'll see them again, but I don't really know.  While they were going to school, while we were all going to school, I thought I could see them any time, and so I would keep putting it off.  Now they're leaving and for all I know I may never see some of them again.  It helps me appreciate the times I did have with them as well as the friends that are still up here, regardless of how well I know them.

Your's In Writing