So, I was driving today in Naperville on route 59, so I obviously have time to think about WHY I CHOSE TO DRIVE IN NAPERVILLE ON 59! In front of me was a small sports car that was getting on my nerves. It was a 98 Talon or some kind of car they don't make anymore because they are small and the engine revs like a race car as it putts along at 35 mph. The simple idea of cars like that driven by guys in Oakley's and wife-beaters showing off his barbed wire tattoo is enough to make anyone furious, but I wasn't furious. I was annoyed.
You see every different car has different blinker patterns. Usually they correspond with the car type. A turn signal on a Lincoln Continental is perfect for Grandma because it blinks with the lethargy that matches the drivers attitude of "All get there someday... if I don't die." This turn signal blinked 90 times a minute!!! I was like, "Chill out... you're turning... I get it." It was so annoying, like some spastic yelping poodle, or some ADD kid all cracked out on Kool-Aid. Did the makers of this car just have too much coffee, or did they think this would be a selling point? This car is fast... everything about it is fast... the engine = fast... the tires = fast... the turn signal = so fast, it will send the person behind you into epileptic fits! Now that's fast!
I'm going to track down these people and eat their young.
I Don't Know What Is Going On Anymore...
Conference
Melancholy
A breakthrough with my team.
Inspiration! Understanding! Praise!
Lofty goals.
Hard talks.
Am I doing anything right?
So far to go.
Too soft... too callus...
Stop dragging your feet.
Plan for the future... Leave room for God...
Reevaluate.
Refresh.
Time to go back to work.
God be my strength.
I Am So Ashamed, I Might Join the Military
It's just such a stark contrast. Where are the warriors? Where are the citizens? I'm struggling to wrap my mind around this and what it means. I just finished this book, and I've read quite a few of it's kind. I've become addicted to Celtic and Medieval history and lore. You know... Knights, kings, Arthur, all things old and glorious.
I read about a time that was a little more black and white... Or what gray their was, was easily dispelled by things like loyalty, honor, and dignity. Valor was Paramount! I don't think I am alone when I say that when I watch Braveheart or Troy or Gladiator that I not only want to follow a great warrior, but I want to be one. I want to win renown and glory by fighting a foe that is bigger and greater than me... to say a prayer and rush into to a fight to obtain glory and honor to God and country. I think there is something in this that speaks to men's souls. Surely, we were called to be great warriors.
But maybe glory is only won at the edge of a sword, and maybe valor can only be inspired by kings. The news today said that 8,000 military personnel have gone AWOL since 9/11. There is a First Lieutenant Ehren Watada that says that he will disobey orders go back to Iraq. NOT WATADA, but others in the media and country are encouraging soldiers to follow his example and refuse to fight. Some are actually encouraging the soldiers in Iraq to quit their post. The big discussion is "Is Watada a Hero or Traitor?" I don't count him as either. If he truly believes it is morally wrong, then let him stay and face the consequences of his actions which will most likely be a court-marshall and imprisonment. That is what he has chosen. At least he has the strength to take a stand and face his consequences. Those of you that have gone AWOL, I call you cowards.
Just listening to the radio this morning as they discussed this topic, I was ashamed. There is no other word for it. At first I thought I felt guilty for not serving in the military. But that's not it. I felt deep shame. I felt ashamed that our country is full of such weakness and cowards. Oh, that we would be like the Celts of old that were held by honor and fidelity to serve their country and king, and if a warrior stayed behind it was to his everlasting shame. Bottom line, when you sign up for the military you are a soldier. Not a cook, radio operator, or a truck driver. You are a soldier. Your job is to fight... not just one battle, but until you are no longer a soldier. You laid your life at the feet of those you serve... your people. It should be the most honored and revered position. It is a humble act of service. It should not be defamed by whinny weaklings who are just looking to wear a uniform and get free college, who run thinking that soldiers were not meant to fight, but bag sand and run drills. And as citizens we should honor the brave and teach our children that to die serving something greater than yourself is the greatest gift you can give.
I was so shamed this morning, I wanted to join up, to be a soldier first and a volunteer Chaplin and inspire men with words of everlasting glory and valor. Where are the warriors? Where are the Cymbrogi?