I'm not the grateful son.
I'm slightly sick, a little sore throat. It's ok, this is the first I've gotten sick here, so no big deal. I had programming club yesterday, only one participant, but that's OK, it balanced out by having 24 for basketball in a court about 20 feet wide and 40 feet long. We're going to split into two groups, two days. Hopefully that gets more kids more chance to do stuff, and we're splitting it up by age, so I'll get a chance to do more drills and skill work with the younger guys.
I did some geeky stuff today, I almost bricked a Linksys router the other night, and today I reflashed the firmware on it to fix it. That involved opening it up, and earthing pin 16 (google for Linksys revival if you're really interested) and reloading firmware, then reconfiguring. That was fun.
There's a whole other set of things to talk about that I wish I could speak of here, but just isn't wise to for various and sundry reasons. We had a guys meeting tonight, and we talked about frustrations, why they are here, and our response to them. I am unable to convey some of my frustrations here (because I don't know what they are), and am unwilling to convey some of them that I do recognize. But the following I can share... you may not like it because it doesn't seem straightforward, what I can tell you is that this is how I process things in my head, so consider this an open book.
Unsealed is the gift here, but the prime examples stare me in the face and I don't know how to respond. The things I miss aren't really worth missing, and the things I should wish to feel again don't come to mind much. It occurs to me that once I am here, I forget that I ever wasn't here, and the silence is not a concern to me. Every morning, I go some place that I may already have been, just to go by, and every time I do, I want to turn and run, or stop for a while. Neither wins in fact, although the running just doesn't happen as energetically. Unsealed is the gift here, and yet it is and is not as we would wish it to be from our perspective. I wake up with questions, I go to bed with questions, and in between, it feels as though I do nothing...
I'm not the grateful son, I'm the rich and spoiled one. I feel this frustration because it feels like I changed my life to go serve, and this nagging pride, this nagging sense of entitlement comes upon me, demanding that I get what I want for my sacrifice. I feel this frustration as I work myself up over how I feel out of place. Sparrows and hair. I feel this frustration because I don't feel close to the One that I wish to know better.
One of the things that I don't have to give now is answers, real answers. I know the ones that you would expect a spoiled one to know, but I hate that I own the ability to not get back on track. I hate that I think of it that way. I hate that all of this has been about me. I hate that everything is always about me to me.
Monday, September 17, 2007
I'm not the grateful son.