I've been reading Glennon Melton's blog monastery.com recently. It has been very inspiring. It has reminded me of how liberating and therapeutic writing can be, as I watch her spill her life out in print for me to see.
I suppose if I had to categorize it, it would be a "mommy blog," but it is so much more than that. For me, it was a matter of finding out what she is doing to save her marriage, and it is honestly hopeful and wonderful.
At this darkest of hours for me, it is comforting to know that others are facing similar troubles as we are.
I hope to have the faith that Glennon does.
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Chris
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Posted by
Chris
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A particularly bad day. Sick, falling down on my self-promises, trying to find inspiration from other bloggers in the internet-o-sphere. My cell phone buzzes on my desk--a rare text from the SO.
“Guess what.”
“What?”
Please say “I love you,” please say “I love you.”
“The toilet’s backed up again.”
**sigh**
There is a long road ahead of me.
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Chris
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Today I had a discussion with my student about what the merits of Angry Birds were versus Flight Control. The most frightening part of my day was when that same student pulled back too abruptly on the controls at about 5 feet above the runway, and we almost stalled. To an inexperienced pilot, maybe a major issue--but to me just enough to wake me up.
After work on a Saturday, to which everyone (including me) was clearly not happy with, I went to a party for my daughter's softball team.
The host of this party was her coach, a disabled veteran who was on the first push into Iraq in 2003. I never had the nerve to ask him how he was disabled. After several beers tonight I got my chance.
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Chris
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What is the price of life?
I sit here watching my 4 year old son, flailing miserably in his swim class. he doesn't judge himself--no, he is full of smiles from ear to ear. My thoughts are of tasks to accomplish. I have managed to convince my boss to allow me some time off, and my plans are to use that time off to catch up in projects that are in dire need of my attention around the house. As I watch my son, I have checked my watch 4 times in 30 minutes.
6 hours away in Houston a person I know only in passing sits in a hospital room. Her four year old son lay in a bed undergoing his latest round of chemotherapy. For the last year this little boy has fought brain cancer, and it appears to be winning the fight. His cancer has spread--and their hopes lay on trial treatments, hoping to cure the incurable.
The thought crosses my mind as I watch my child try in vain to complete a backstroke--this mundane, simple task I am doing, distracted by a lawn that needs to be mowed, how valuable would this simple time be to my friend? Something so small to me, an inconvenience in my simple mind--of what value us this to one fighting for her child's life?
