How’s it going?

Copyright (c) 123RF Stock PhotosHow’s it going?,  you may ask.

Lately I haven’t been feeling great.  I am emotionally spent, physically tired and mentally delayed.  My right bottom eyelid has been twitchy for a few days, my legs achy for a couple weeks and my back twanging for what feels like months.  I am just tired and worn out.  I was stressed but not feeling like I was excessively busy most of the time.

I thought it might have to do with the violent, anti-hero, slightly vulgar television shows I have watched recently that have ruined my dreams.  One night I will be a reformed serial killer running from my family, the next receiving $5 million for just one delivery of some blue drug on my Harley. Then I wondered if it was about all the crazy stories I have heard from friends on the street and random people on the Max, because real life is always worse than fictional shows.

Whatever it was got to the point this week that I thought the older man with Tourettes might actually be faking to get his own area on the Max.  Then I almost believed the homeless dude yelling, “They’s a bomb on the bridge, man. This is air force one, roger out.”  Before he hit the window and exited at the next stop.

Yesterday,  I sat in silence on the commute home and let me thoughts run.  I thought about Junior coming and the birth classes we start that night.  I thought of how my administering of three o’clock people wasn’t working as planned.  I thought of my lack of desire to get up for work nearly every day for various reasons.  Of the occasionally troubled imperfect, but manageable, state of our finances.  How the beautiful Hannah and I struggle to have good time together because we want to just sleep or watch Netflix when we are home together.

Then my mind turned left while the train crossed the bridge and I wondered how I ended up in the same town for nearly six years.  At the same job, for over five.  How I have been through a handful of very different communities in that time and how the one I currently identify with is quite small and not as close as planned.  I remembered the updates I get from friends that are crossing the world traveling, ministering, sacrificing….and here I am…

Sitting on the same public transit system that has taken me home for 5 years…to an expectant wife after another too long 8 hour day at work where I spent my lunch hour administrating a nonprofit that is still needed by those it serves.

I noticed my stop was next, so after 30 ish minutes of thinking, I said a quick prayer.  And on my short walk home from the light rail, I think I heard a response.

“I got it.  Stop worrying”

It would be nice if I turned around and saw one of the crazy homeless dudes in my hood. But there was no one.  It also would have been nice if it wasn’t in my dad’s voice and he wasn’t passed on and consistently making me feel like he is looking in on me.

So that’s how I am.


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