Also featured on GUTS Blog.
My name is Sarah and I’m a fixer.
You see, I’ve got this nagging “fix it” rooted in me. I like to call it the “Pottsie-fix-it”. Some of my friends know it all too well. It’s my hardly discrete sidekick that comes out when life gets a little crazy. I must say, with years of practice I’ve, or shall I say we, have gotten pretty good at “fixing” things. In my life, and in attempts to “fix” things in my loved one’s lives. Most of the time it’s just easier to panic, get all stressed, go for a run to clear my head, and then make a lengthy to-do list of things needed to get “back to normal”. Sure, my face will break out under the stress, i’ll run a little faster than my prior freak out session, but I’ll work it out! Fear not friends! I’ve got it! I’m good! The weight of it all will only slightly swallow me for a few days, but i’ll hide it well, trod double time, and the check list! Oh, once that last blasted box is check, all will be “good” again!
Right?
“Au contrare, mon ami! Au contrare!” says Jesus. (If he were French, of course.)
Three months ago I moved to South Korea. Tonight i decided that if one craves kimchi and opts for chopsticks over a fork-- they’re no longer “new to Korea”! I’ll be in Korea for a year and in the Lord’s perfect (often comical) timing, he has decided it the best to teach me, again, about trust!
Awesome.
As if leaving my loved ones wasn’t hard enough, let’s though a few curve balls in the mix and see what happens! Now, I don’t promote the cosmic pitcher view of God- but sometimes life just seems as if balls are b-lining toward you and all you can really do is run along, back against the backstop, trying not to get decked. When all along you’ve got a bat chillin’ in the dug out. “GRAB THE BAT KNUCKLEHEAD! GRAB THE BAT!” (Unless you can’t hit. That could prove awful.)
But, I digress.
I know that God has a specific plan for me leaving California and moving to Korea-- part of which I understand now, but a lot is unfolding as the days pass. One thing I do know is this: God is teaching me how to trust him and it’s hard! You see, when you are 6,000 miles, one bus ride, and a 13 hour plane ride away, lack extensive texting or really any convenient cell phone communication, and live 16 hours in the future of everyone you love and care for, and things back home seem a little out of control, my fix-it tendencies are useless. But God, whose ways are higher than mine, knew that it would take radical distance and physical limitations and separation to get through. I’m rather thick at times, but I think I’m starting to get it! (Phew!)
When things in life get a little out of control, I am quick to fret. Quick into “Pottsie-fix-it”, and quick to my feet--ready for action. What can i do to fix what is wrong? How can I make things better? Send a card. Make some soup. Sit and talk. Punch a jerk-face. Share a meal. Read some scripture. Patrol life. Just in case, you know? The list continues. But when you cannot give these things (in any method faster than snail mail), meet up to talk (at an hour normal folks have coffee), or simply be there when people might need you (where you appear to have legs and exist outside of a video box), it’s hard and easy to forget.
It’s easy to forget that God is God. That He is in control. That he is the one who counts and numbers the hairs on the heads of the people I love and that he loves them infinitely more, and can provide for them exceedingly more than I could ever. I am quick to forget that Jesus wins! That he is victorious and that the light will not be overcome with darkness. I am quick to forget that he has good, abundant, full life planned for his children. And back by popular demand, his grace really is sufficient! And well, simple, that I am: E. None of the above.
I’ve mastered the “Trust God!” lingo and will pass it along the next chronic doubter confidently. But deep in my heart I have wrestled with believing that God really will take care of the awful things in this world and most of all the people I love like he promises he will! I forget that He really is orchestrating this whole thing we call life and he really can do it apart from my input, my efforts, and my meager attempt to “fix things”.
He can do it without you too.
Sure, God calls us to carry the burdens of our brothers and sisters. And yes, He calls us to actively and often times tangibly love people. But, not apart from trusting that God is God and He, alone, is in control. Not apart from prayer and supplication and a heart of trust. Trust rooted in remembrance that God was good in the past, He is good in the present, and he will prove to be good again. He really, truly, undoubtedly is able!
He’s God.
(Fancy that!)
Monday, June 14, 2010
Monday, December 28, 2009
Good News of Great Joy
“Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Jesus Christ the Lord.”
Whoot to that!
When I think about Christmas I am so thankful. You see, Jesus came to this place to make things new. And that he did. Israel had been waiting. A long time. But when the time had come, the perfect time, the hope of their longings turned to pure joy! In form of a baby boy. Some believed, some didn’t, yet all had to hope. Their long due Messiah was finally here. The hope of salvation could finally be here. Arriving not as the powerful King they were looking for, but in the quiet slumber of a child. And while it was different than thought, the hope of peace filled them full, and a joy covered the people.
The good news of Jesus, to us, is great joy! That baby grew up. The life of Jesus, as he walked this earth, brought love and healing to a broken and thrashed world. The humanity of Jesus to us, is comfort and consolation when we are tempted to despair. The death of Jesus is a payment for our sin and a declaration of God’s unmerited, abounding, horribly awesome love. And Christ’s resurrection is the power of victory, the hope of salvation, and the promise of his return. Now that’s joy if I’ve ever known it.
So now I wait. Not hopelessly! Oh, contrare! You see, I’ve seen the King! And he’s beautiful! I’ve been graciously mobilized to live fully in great hope and abundant joy that Jesus, one beautiful day, will return again. And in glorious power will snatch me from this place and set me in eternity with him. Oh Patty, Heavenly Day it will be! But, while I wait, I live! You see, the enemy came to kill, steal and destroy, but my King came to give me life! Abundant life. And I haven’t got time to waste. People need to be loved. They need to see Jesus. And I am convinced that seeing Jesus, for who he really is, changes everything!
Jesus has come people!! REJOICE!! Good news of GREAT JOY has come... and he saved the world.
Merry Christmas to you. And as a dear friend told me earlier, Christmas Day was so big we needed an eve to celebrate its full awesomeness. So, Merry Christmas Eve... may you see Jesus today and be changed! While we celebrate his coming, we long for and hope in the day he will come again and made ALL THINGS new! What a glorious day!
So live. FULLY!
...maybe today Lord!
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
"And the Word Became Flesh"
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.
Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it...
The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth."- John 1:1-5, 14Piece to be raffled off to help fund the Urbana Conference '09 team... www.urbana.orgContact me if your interested in buying a ticket!
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Garnished With Hope
Today is Thanksgiving. A day to remember the blessing and provisions of a new land. The fortitude of the faithful, the mercies of the Maker and the many thanksgivings of the oddly clad Pilgrims. Well everyone really, but i guess it all started with them. One thing i do know... I’m pretty darn thankful for the person who thought of the word “cornucopia”. It’s a good one!
Anyway, on a more serious note, this year’s season comes at a time when more people are facing many more trials during much harsher times. Everyone seems to be talking about the economy and how awful it is. The affects of it are pretty obvious and it has hit closer than expected and comfortable. People have lost their jobs. Their homes. Their health. Families have taken hit upon hit to find a glimpse of hope in the provision of a food stamp, the heart of generous handout, and the sweet voice on the end of a helpline. Simple thanksgivings are found in the supply of the necessities and the abundance of mere relief. (Though in the host of phone calls for food assistance this week, I did get a one from a woman asking if we could provide her family a pie.)
However, in the midst of all of the hardship, there is hope! That hope is found in the steadfast love of God for his wonder-prone crazies (like me), and in the life and victory of Christ.
God is unwavering. His character is sure. It is good and righteous. All just and all loving. Merciful and wrathful. Mighty and exceedingly exalted. Not just the “man up stairs” but a living, active, and patient God. His patience is unmerited and his provisions are sufficient. He chooses, and commands, and convicts his chosen. Corrects and carries the burden his children. He conjures and carves, curves and coils, channels and cracks all the crevasses, creatures and rest of colossal creation. He is God. (And I just used a lot of “c” words.)
“I will give to the Lord the thanks due to his righteousness, and I will sing praise to the name of the Lord, the Most High.”
Christ was sent and is the perfect substitution. Through the wrath of a holy God poured out on a perfect man, we are granted access to the Holy One. That alone evokes thanksgiving. He qualifies God’s chosen to share in his rightful inheritance. He delivers sinners from the dominion of darkness and delivers them into the transforming kingdom of Christ. Into a new life of light! Man’s standing before God was redeemed though the cross. Through Christ’s death and resurrection. “But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” I Corinthians 15:57
Even when life serves up a banquet of hardship, it is garnished with the hope! Always. God does not change. His righteousness is steadfast! His goodness is grand. And his promises are sure. Even if that is all we have, we have ample reasons for thanksgiving. “Give thanks in all circumstances for it is the will of God in Christ for you.” 1 Thessalonians 5:18
Happy Thanksgiving to you all!! May you be fed with the lovely knowledge of Christ Jesus and may that translate into unceasing thanks and a life of giving! May you be stuffed with the good bread of life. Filled full, but not too full, of the true vine wine. And whatever other Biblical analogy you can make for the green been casserole, mashed potatoes and pumpkin goodies.
In the wise words of Solomon, “Eat, drink, and be merry... for tomorrow we die.”Good one Solly... I mean, it is Black Friday!
Anyway, on a more serious note, this year’s season comes at a time when more people are facing many more trials during much harsher times. Everyone seems to be talking about the economy and how awful it is. The affects of it are pretty obvious and it has hit closer than expected and comfortable. People have lost their jobs. Their homes. Their health. Families have taken hit upon hit to find a glimpse of hope in the provision of a food stamp, the heart of generous handout, and the sweet voice on the end of a helpline. Simple thanksgivings are found in the supply of the necessities and the abundance of mere relief. (Though in the host of phone calls for food assistance this week, I did get a one from a woman asking if we could provide her family a pie.)
However, in the midst of all of the hardship, there is hope! That hope is found in the steadfast love of God for his wonder-prone crazies (like me), and in the life and victory of Christ.
God is unwavering. His character is sure. It is good and righteous. All just and all loving. Merciful and wrathful. Mighty and exceedingly exalted. Not just the “man up stairs” but a living, active, and patient God. His patience is unmerited and his provisions are sufficient. He chooses, and commands, and convicts his chosen. Corrects and carries the burden his children. He conjures and carves, curves and coils, channels and cracks all the crevasses, creatures and rest of colossal creation. He is God. (And I just used a lot of “c” words.)
“I will give to the Lord the thanks due to his righteousness, and I will sing praise to the name of the Lord, the Most High.”
Christ was sent and is the perfect substitution. Through the wrath of a holy God poured out on a perfect man, we are granted access to the Holy One. That alone evokes thanksgiving. He qualifies God’s chosen to share in his rightful inheritance. He delivers sinners from the dominion of darkness and delivers them into the transforming kingdom of Christ. Into a new life of light! Man’s standing before God was redeemed though the cross. Through Christ’s death and resurrection. “But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” I Corinthians 15:57
Even when life serves up a banquet of hardship, it is garnished with the hope! Always. God does not change. His righteousness is steadfast! His goodness is grand. And his promises are sure. Even if that is all we have, we have ample reasons for thanksgiving. “Give thanks in all circumstances for it is the will of God in Christ for you.” 1 Thessalonians 5:18
Happy Thanksgiving to you all!! May you be fed with the lovely knowledge of Christ Jesus and may that translate into unceasing thanks and a life of giving! May you be stuffed with the good bread of life. Filled full, but not too full, of the true vine wine. And whatever other Biblical analogy you can make for the green been casserole, mashed potatoes and pumpkin goodies.
In the wise words of Solomon, “Eat, drink, and be merry... for tomorrow we die.”Good one Solly... I mean, it is Black Friday!
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Inked
A few blogs ago i posted some of my artwork and mentioned i was working on a tattoo for my brother! Well... i finished it and the first stage of it has made it to his leg! Here it is...
The inspiration was Psalm 1.
Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers. 2 But his delight is in the law of the LORD,and on his law he meditates day and night.3 He is like a tree planted by streams of water,which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers.4 Not so the wicked! They are like chaff that the wind blows away.5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.6 For the LORD watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish.
A strong tree yields fruit. Good fruit. So in the branches is the Fruit of the Spirit from Galatians 5. I'll be sure to post more when it's finished! : )
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Creeper. Not Keeper.
Repetition is powerful. When several, similar “happenings” just happen to happen in a short period of time... it’s hard not to take notice. And though most of the time it’s when I’m due for a whirlwind of character development, this most recent trend is quite perplexing. It's like when you pray for patience and the whole week you master the light grid to get all reds and your computer seems to run at turtle speed. Well... I’m just not so sure what the heck to do with it, but i'm hoping it's not indicative of my future.
You see, I seem to be attracting men. Yes. Men. But, hold on to your knickers my friends... no need to jump for joy just yet. While most women would not consider such a problem... these aren’t the kind of men I’m really looking for. However to some, at this point, I should just take whatever I can get.
Let me explain.
When a newspaper sales man greets you from across the gas station parking with, “Hey there pretty girl,” it’s kind of freaky. If he’d been in a windowless, unmarked, white van, I probably would have run. And if there were an alternative entrance into the gas station, I probably would have made a discrete b-line to another door. You see, I don’t usually make small talk with the fellows pumping gas.... and not too often do I strike up a conversation with strange men in parking lots. Call it rude. To me, its seems common sense. But, in Sarah kind, I gave him the benefit of the doubt, and smiled. Since this man seemed to have a non- traditional-woman-snatching job—selling newspapers—I disregarded the creepy one-liner and thought it’d be safe to say a quick good morning, pick up a paper, and head on my way. Oh contrare! Intentions were dually noted when regardless of the multiple conversation diverters I attempted, he persistently commented on my “pretty eyes” and how “he doesn’t usually pick up on younger women like this.” When he continued to ask my age and the age range of men I typically date I gave my adieus and hit the road. Man #1 we’ll call Creeper. Negatory on the keeper.
Man #2. The gosh darn sun. You know when you’re talking to someone and the sun is right behind their head and you can’t really see their face? All you can really see is the silhouette of their head? Well let’s just say the stars were perfectly aligned for this second story and I met the non-man-of-my-dreams number two.
I stopped at Starbucks for a cup of coffee. All I wanted was a cup of coffee. You know those times when you go to Starbucks hoping that some cute lad will be sitting in the corner reading a book you could make an intelligent comment about? You’ll hit it off and the rest is history? (Just me? Oh, sad.)
Well... this wasn’t one of those days. I really just wanted coffee... and even if there was a cute lad I probably wouldn’t have gone for it. (Actually I probably would have, but for the drama of this story I’ll say I was on a strict mission to get some coffee.)
Coffee in hand I walk over to the condiment bar to find a uniformed man doctoring his own cup o’ jo. We exchanged good mornings and as he passed me the half-n- half I look up to make eye contact. At this point the sun is right behind his head, magnifying as it makes its way through the glass, and is literally blinding me. I make a witty comment about bright lights and apologize for squinting to see him. I literally cannot see his face. Actually at this point, I really can’t see anything because the short glance into the direct sunlight has marred my eyes. I do catch him giving me a quick one over and he proceeds to tell me he likes it because “at this angle, it makes my eyes look pretty.” Don’t know if swanky can be used to describe speech, but if it can that’s how he talked. Creeper status.
He seemed like a nice guy so I disregard the body scan and creepy, swanky voice, and quickly stirred and lid-ed my coffee. The conversation continued and because I didn’t want to be rude, I kind of move around and shaded my eyes from the sun so I could see his face, and to hopefully protect him from awful, distorted faces I’ve been making at him—compliments of the sun.
He was like 50. And a cop. A fifty year old cop.
Cops are fine. Fifty? Seriously? Not the cute lad I had in mind. Not even close.
The conversation continued and ended at the “Oh, I’d give my money to those eyes,” comment.
I chuckled awkwardly. Smiled and headed toward the door. Offering wishes of a “good one”.
And somehow he got away with my business card.
When does that ever happen? I cannot deny the stars were aligned... but seriously. Fifty? Come on man!
Man #3. I sometimes will take my lunch to a local coffee shop, buy a diet coke, and enjoy my sack lunch on the patio. Today I did the same and I met a man named Matt.
Let’s just say I met Matt inside the coffee shop and he followed me outside to the patio. I entertained the break from my reading and talked to him for a while. He was a nice guy. Just wanted to talk to someone. I could do that! He expressed interest in the Untied Way and volunteering (note to self- remove name tag when you go to lunch), so I gave him my card and told him to check out our website! After a while of talking I said goodbye and headed to my truck. He stopped me mid-parking lot and told me “You know, there aren’t too many single, Christian women in the high desert.” I affirmed him, not really knowing what to say to that, and he continued to tell me how his pastor told him there were “more demons in the valley than any where else.” I thanked him for talking and encouraged him again to check out the United Way and headed back to work. Laughing once again at the kind of men I seem to attract.
About an hour later I heard some commotion in our front lobby. My boss has crossed paths with a man as she’s leaving the office. She’s having trouble understanding him but makes out that he’s asking for Sarah.
Matt followed me to work. To give me his business card. He goes on to tell me, “You’re a California girl. With blonde hair and blue eyes.” And that he’s, “a beach boy.” I try to divert the conversation to volunteering with the United Way and thank him for bringing by his cards. And though met with some resistance I tell him I have to get back to work and thank him again for stopping by. Matt is a nice man. I appreciate his persistence, but there’s a line. Following a girl to work is a little creepy and crosses that line.
I later leave for a meeting and return to find I’ve missed a call from Matt. He wants me to call him back. He left his cell phone number.
My conclusion is this: I’m either in the wrong place at the wrong time and too nice to the wrong people, God has an awful sense of humor, or I’m a bloody magnet for crisis-bound middle-life aged men. Mom always said I’d marry an older man... but I’m hoping older does presume the creeper, the stalker, and infertile.
holy moly! i need to get out of the desert!
You see, I seem to be attracting men. Yes. Men. But, hold on to your knickers my friends... no need to jump for joy just yet. While most women would not consider such a problem... these aren’t the kind of men I’m really looking for. However to some, at this point, I should just take whatever I can get.
Let me explain.
When a newspaper sales man greets you from across the gas station parking with, “Hey there pretty girl,” it’s kind of freaky. If he’d been in a windowless, unmarked, white van, I probably would have run. And if there were an alternative entrance into the gas station, I probably would have made a discrete b-line to another door. You see, I don’t usually make small talk with the fellows pumping gas.... and not too often do I strike up a conversation with strange men in parking lots. Call it rude. To me, its seems common sense. But, in Sarah kind, I gave him the benefit of the doubt, and smiled. Since this man seemed to have a non- traditional-woman-snatching job—selling newspapers—I disregarded the creepy one-liner and thought it’d be safe to say a quick good morning, pick up a paper, and head on my way. Oh contrare! Intentions were dually noted when regardless of the multiple conversation diverters I attempted, he persistently commented on my “pretty eyes” and how “he doesn’t usually pick up on younger women like this.” When he continued to ask my age and the age range of men I typically date I gave my adieus and hit the road. Man #1 we’ll call Creeper. Negatory on the keeper.
Man #2. The gosh darn sun. You know when you’re talking to someone and the sun is right behind their head and you can’t really see their face? All you can really see is the silhouette of their head? Well let’s just say the stars were perfectly aligned for this second story and I met the non-man-of-my-dreams number two.
I stopped at Starbucks for a cup of coffee. All I wanted was a cup of coffee. You know those times when you go to Starbucks hoping that some cute lad will be sitting in the corner reading a book you could make an intelligent comment about? You’ll hit it off and the rest is history? (Just me? Oh, sad.)
Well... this wasn’t one of those days. I really just wanted coffee... and even if there was a cute lad I probably wouldn’t have gone for it. (Actually I probably would have, but for the drama of this story I’ll say I was on a strict mission to get some coffee.)
Coffee in hand I walk over to the condiment bar to find a uniformed man doctoring his own cup o’ jo. We exchanged good mornings and as he passed me the half-n- half I look up to make eye contact. At this point the sun is right behind his head, magnifying as it makes its way through the glass, and is literally blinding me. I make a witty comment about bright lights and apologize for squinting to see him. I literally cannot see his face. Actually at this point, I really can’t see anything because the short glance into the direct sunlight has marred my eyes. I do catch him giving me a quick one over and he proceeds to tell me he likes it because “at this angle, it makes my eyes look pretty.” Don’t know if swanky can be used to describe speech, but if it can that’s how he talked. Creeper status.
He seemed like a nice guy so I disregard the body scan and creepy, swanky voice, and quickly stirred and lid-ed my coffee. The conversation continued and because I didn’t want to be rude, I kind of move around and shaded my eyes from the sun so I could see his face, and to hopefully protect him from awful, distorted faces I’ve been making at him—compliments of the sun.
He was like 50. And a cop. A fifty year old cop.
Cops are fine. Fifty? Seriously? Not the cute lad I had in mind. Not even close.
The conversation continued and ended at the “Oh, I’d give my money to those eyes,” comment.
I chuckled awkwardly. Smiled and headed toward the door. Offering wishes of a “good one”.
And somehow he got away with my business card.
When does that ever happen? I cannot deny the stars were aligned... but seriously. Fifty? Come on man!
Man #3. I sometimes will take my lunch to a local coffee shop, buy a diet coke, and enjoy my sack lunch on the patio. Today I did the same and I met a man named Matt.
Let’s just say I met Matt inside the coffee shop and he followed me outside to the patio. I entertained the break from my reading and talked to him for a while. He was a nice guy. Just wanted to talk to someone. I could do that! He expressed interest in the Untied Way and volunteering (note to self- remove name tag when you go to lunch), so I gave him my card and told him to check out our website! After a while of talking I said goodbye and headed to my truck. He stopped me mid-parking lot and told me “You know, there aren’t too many single, Christian women in the high desert.” I affirmed him, not really knowing what to say to that, and he continued to tell me how his pastor told him there were “more demons in the valley than any where else.” I thanked him for talking and encouraged him again to check out the United Way and headed back to work. Laughing once again at the kind of men I seem to attract.
About an hour later I heard some commotion in our front lobby. My boss has crossed paths with a man as she’s leaving the office. She’s having trouble understanding him but makes out that he’s asking for Sarah.
Matt followed me to work. To give me his business card. He goes on to tell me, “You’re a California girl. With blonde hair and blue eyes.” And that he’s, “a beach boy.” I try to divert the conversation to volunteering with the United Way and thank him for bringing by his cards. And though met with some resistance I tell him I have to get back to work and thank him again for stopping by. Matt is a nice man. I appreciate his persistence, but there’s a line. Following a girl to work is a little creepy and crosses that line.
I later leave for a meeting and return to find I’ve missed a call from Matt. He wants me to call him back. He left his cell phone number.
My conclusion is this: I’m either in the wrong place at the wrong time and too nice to the wrong people, God has an awful sense of humor, or I’m a bloody magnet for crisis-bound middle-life aged men. Mom always said I’d marry an older man... but I’m hoping older does presume the creeper, the stalker, and infertile.
holy moly! i need to get out of the desert!
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Three Suburbans and a Tractor
I left for my 3 o'clock meeting today a little early. Last week i left a little late and almost got in a few nasty wrecks trying to get there on time. So i decided i'd use a little wisdom, leave early, and avoid the need for speed.
To where you ask? Cemex. A cement plant. Now, with a few ounces of common sense you could probably conclude that such a place wouldn't be located in the center of town. And you would be right. Hence the long drive. To get there you have to take a long, straight road out to the middle of nowhere. The only way to find this place is the huge pile of overturned earth that looks a little whiter than the rest of the mountain. It literally is the only thing on the road.
On my way, i passed a bus stop and laughed. Really hard. I couldn't help myself! Why you ask? Well, like a typical American buss stop, i guess a more modern one, you have yourself the parking lot of family vehicles. Parents waiting for their chitlins to pile off the bus. I would assume it's kind of a social status meter. You know, the kinds of cars waiting at the bus stop. Maybe in Malibu, moms pull up in their chrome rimed Land Rovers to pick up their kids named JJ and Jo. Short of course for their real names. The trendy hippie moms of the northwest might pull up in their beat up station wagon tatted with the latest travel stickers and political insignia. Smelling of organic burnt bacon from dad's latest attempt to beat the pump. The yuppie, urban dwellers might pull up in their energy saver cars. However a little less fortunate than the other kids, theirs are forced to stack on top because there isn't a back seat. Or trunk. Or really any space, other than the roof, for that matter. These kids can't play instruments or sports, either. Sad. They should just take the metro.
Anyway, the bus stop i passed today was hilarious. Three suburbans and a tractor.
Some kid's mom pickin' him up from the bus stop on a tractor! That's AWESOME! The moms i'm sure are used to this. However i can't imagine a 5th grader, growing into his "too cool for school", or "too cool for tractor" stage of life, piling off the bus in excitement to see his overall clad mother a top ol' mr. deer. But... when he grows up, he's realize just how awesome that is! And he'll laugh just like i did! :)
To where you ask? Cemex. A cement plant. Now, with a few ounces of common sense you could probably conclude that such a place wouldn't be located in the center of town. And you would be right. Hence the long drive. To get there you have to take a long, straight road out to the middle of nowhere. The only way to find this place is the huge pile of overturned earth that looks a little whiter than the rest of the mountain. It literally is the only thing on the road.
On my way, i passed a bus stop and laughed. Really hard. I couldn't help myself! Why you ask? Well, like a typical American buss stop, i guess a more modern one, you have yourself the parking lot of family vehicles. Parents waiting for their chitlins to pile off the bus. I would assume it's kind of a social status meter. You know, the kinds of cars waiting at the bus stop. Maybe in Malibu, moms pull up in their chrome rimed Land Rovers to pick up their kids named JJ and Jo. Short of course for their real names. The trendy hippie moms of the northwest might pull up in their beat up station wagon tatted with the latest travel stickers and political insignia. Smelling of organic burnt bacon from dad's latest attempt to beat the pump. The yuppie, urban dwellers might pull up in their energy saver cars. However a little less fortunate than the other kids, theirs are forced to stack on top because there isn't a back seat. Or trunk. Or really any space, other than the roof, for that matter. These kids can't play instruments or sports, either. Sad. They should just take the metro.
Anyway, the bus stop i passed today was hilarious. Three suburbans and a tractor.
Some kid's mom pickin' him up from the bus stop on a tractor! That's AWESOME! The moms i'm sure are used to this. However i can't imagine a 5th grader, growing into his "too cool for school", or "too cool for tractor" stage of life, piling off the bus in excitement to see his overall clad mother a top ol' mr. deer. But... when he grows up, he's realize just how awesome that is! And he'll laugh just like i did! :)
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