Trestling

Of all the colours in creation, I chose the grays. The spots in between all absorbing and all reflecting. Like clouds brimming with rain drops, ready to burst. That is where you will find me. My niece will be in pink, my wife in blue and Elyod in peach!

I learned of trestling today, it is standing on the trestles under a railway bridge. So when the train passes overhead, it is inches away from you! You feel the train more than you hear it. You smell it. You experience it in all its immensity. It sounds dangerous, I think that is the thrill. The danger is the risk of the train falling through the bridge and crushing you, chances are slim. If that happens...what blasted luck you have!

As I watched this in a movie I noted the actor screaming with joy, yet she uncannily showed all the sorrow through the cracks. It made me remember how many times I have run ragged, hung off a cliff face, and whatever else I do to make my hair blow back, in an effort to bury the things that are trying to burst out. The dark yearnings that ever strive to bolt out and consume me. My self pitying is overfed, it is tough to say poor me during or after 10 miles. So I should run on, find more cliffs, ride to the beach and later down the West coast. Sometimes I do what I do so that adrenaline washes out self and all his rubbish.

I want to go trestling, maybe I will go, "Wahoo!"

Twenty-ten or Two thousand ten

Happy New Year...meaning what? Is it like happy birthday, 'Wow! You made it another year" or like happy Valentine's day? Thank you Hallmark. What exactly does 'ringing in the New Year' mean?

For most people around me it seems to be a celebration of their amazing achievement: living through another year. Unfortunately it ends there, because the next statement is not so bold, "...and hoping for the best in the coming year." Here is my problem; if you are such a big shot you pound your chest for living through a whole solar cycle, then doing it again is a walk in the park. Unless in that last statement we are being honest, and confessing that our celebration is a confectionery boast covering a stubborn truth: we did not make it this far by our wits.

So if we remove the icing, we should be 'celebrating' prostrate before the Lord or whom/whatever we ascribe our being because THEY have maintained us through another year. The cosmic swirlie did not sink us this time. Our life preserver/raft/yacht is holding up in the galactic toilet bowl and we have not yet been flushed. I say 'yet' because our turn is coming. Those who departed in a whirlpool did so not because they are of lesser resolve or inferior breeding. Their time came as will yours and mine. There is a flush with your name on it. When it comes, I hope for your sake whom/what you ascribe your life to will be able to carry you across with lungs full of air. So when you bow there, you bow in reverence alone and not in fear and trembling.

Thank you LORD of Hosts, for bringing me thus far. You maintain me by Your right hand. It is by Your strength that I stand here, not by my strength or wits. Not by me Lord, but by Your gracious Spirit. I celebrate Your grace and long suffering towards me. Be glorified in me.

Happy New Year.