4.5 - Shotgun

It would seem natural to use this episode of the "play" topic, to talk about how I'm getting ready to sit out on the patio by the fire watching the Yankees play in the world series, but I can't. There are issues.

First, outdoor fires have been banned here due to lack of rain. Second, the Yankees aren't in the world series. Third, it looks like the Yankees won't even exist after George gets through firing (and insulting) everyone.

So... I'm preparing to watch the world series from my couch, rooting for the Rockies (my second favorite team is whoever's playing Boston).

While I wait for the series to start, I have taken on a new extreme sport: riding shotgun with an inexperienced teenage driver.

There is nothing quite like the adrenaline rush when "No! Don't! Stop!" is heard as "No, don't stop." Or when "You are a little too close [to the edge of the road]" is interpreted as "You are a little too close [to the center of the road]."

I don't know how the feeling compares to an attempt to break the Cannonball Run record (NY to LA in 31:04!), but I'm thinking it might be close.

I probably should go ahead and order the replacement passenger side mirror now—I can't see it making it through too many more of these excursions.

3.5 - Relief and Trepidation

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." - Seneca

Today is my last day at a job I've had for seven years. I don't think there is anyone in the building who has been here longer than I have.

I am sad.

I am relieved.

Monday is my first day at a job I just don't know enough about. I really don't much like being the new guy.

I am anxious.

I am apprehensive.

Today I feel bold, brave, and empowered.

Monday I will feel nervous, fearful, and confused.

Today I am surrounded by friends.

Monday I will be surrounded by strangers.

Today, and on Monday as well, I will go home after work.

I'll be ok.

2.5 - Hope for America

I have recently noticed many events of tremendous significance. At first glance, they seem irrelevant, meaningless—even boring. I contend that they are not.

• My Ron Paul 2008 bumper stickers came yesterday.
  
• I put one on my car.
  
• There was not enough space in the non-wiper area of the rear window, so I actually had to put it below the window on the actual painted surface.
  
• I have only seen about 10 bumperstickers relating to the 2008 election. All of them have been for Ron Paul.

It's a short list—it could easily be longer.

These events are significant because:

• I donated money to a political candidate.
  
• I don't put stickers on my car unless I have to.
  
• Especially not on the paint.
  
• I'm not alone.

These events are significant because they are far outside the norm. I have noticed that when my actions change, and there is any early indication of similar changes in others, the overall effect of the coming shift is enormous.

There are things that I like that aren't popular—but I don't expect them to be. There are also popular things that I don't like—but I understand why they are.

I am rarely first on board. I'm not the first to get a cell phone, first to get broadband, first to like (or hate!) a company, or first to embrace any new technology. My "everybody is going to want one of these" or "why does anybody do business with that company" moment is usually pretty well timed. My interest usually occurs just before the tipping point to mass acceptance. I don't usually notice it until well after the fact.

I have agreed with some political candidates in the past. I've engaged in discussions on political issues and the positions held by those running for office. I've voted for libertarians that I knew could not win. I've seen my chosen candidates summarily dismissed by the media, effectively silencing them and making them largely unknown to the voters.

Until recently, I simply had to admit that the politicians that I could support simply weren't going to win. Even when I agreed wholeheartedly with a candidate, there was just nothing to be excited about. This is different.

Very different.

1.5 - Not your father's God

Recently I have been accused of advocating views that are opposed to Christianity. Maybe that's not quite accurate. Perhaps the accusation is more that when the Christian perspective on some subject is being touted, I can be relied upon to give voice to the opposing view. This is particularly of concern to some when children are involved.

Some believe that this is due to a personal crisis of faith. These people are wrong.

While I certainly have my share of issues, belief in God is not currently one of them and my faith is strong. My issues are with all the human interpretations that I've been led to believe that may or may not be accurate—those I'm working through.

Because of my issues, I suppose I find it unconsciously necessary to ensure that alternate views, opposing ways of thinking, and the world's perspective on the subject at hand are examined.

What I believe has in the past been what my parents, my church, and my school believed, and for reasons that weren't always clear, but were never questioned or allowed to be questioned—or at least it seemed that way to me. I want to believe what I believe for better reasons and with a willingness to examine the alternatives. If my belief can't stand up to questions, what good is it?

How can I "be ready always to give an answer for the hope that is within" me, if I haven't prepared for the questions? How can I love the Lord with all my mind if I refuse to use it?

There are hundreds, maybe thousands of religions. The vast majority of those who practice a religion do so because they have been taught to do so by their parents. Most are discouraged from seeking truth, and are even taught that to seek truth outside of their religion is sin.

Any religion that discourages its followers from examining all the religious views of men, including those that say there is no god, must be afraid that there is truth to be found elsewhere. If there is truth to be found elsewhere, should it not be sought?

If my God is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, I fear no opposing view—I welcome it as one more opportunity to showcase truth and refine my beliefs. Much of what is impressed upon us religiously as children is unimportant—actions born of convenience or tradition rather than truth. Many things I have believed in the past have fallen away. The important things have not.

While I certainly want my God to be my children's God, I do not want my children to choose Him for that reason alone.