A Few Branches that Fell

 In the high winds a few days ago, the huge elm next to the driveway lost a few significant limbs. One of the branches was a foot in diameter, but it was mostly hollow.

Drought, elm beetles, and neglect have taken their toll and left the tree too weak to withstand the 70mph gusts. The big branch lightly grazed the roof of the house and the a-pillar of my old car. Had the branch been a few feet east, the roof would need repair, the car would've been totaled.

Yesterday evening, I cut the branches into manageable chunks and stacked them near the garage. I'll haul them off this weekend.

It all goes back to that one word - "neglect". The tree, the house, and the car all suffer from a whole lot of neglect.

The house needs a lot of repair, refurbishment, and updates. Two decades of dogs, dust, and short attention spans have taken their toll. It can be restored, but it'll be a bigger job than I want to tackle at this point in life.

The car is still a great car, but the wrinkled hood, the faded paint, and the bare steel wheels tell a story of how little care the little Ford has received. Some polish, some paint, a new hood, some elbow grease - but it's a $1000 car that would still be a $1000 car after the work. 

Many of the smaller limbs I cleared away yesterday were budding out. The tree still has life coursing through it, but the trunk and larger branches are hollow, soft, and rotting. I'd like to believe that some TLC and a good trimming could turn things around, but the truth is, the tree is dying and needs to be cut down before it hurts someone or something very badly. 

Speaking of fallen branches, today is my older sibling's birthday. They passed away a decade or so ago. (And no, I'm not trying to be ambiguous. When I was born, I had a sister. When he died, he was my brother.) They died young(ish) after a long life of not being accepted by a lot of intolerant Texans and unloving Christians. It was a lonely and painful death. They died younger than I am now.

When I look around the house, I have a lot of great memories here - lots of great people (and dogs) and stories and songs sung with my wife. I have been wealthy and blessed in this home and in this life.

But I don't know that I want to fix all this stuff. Lord willing, I'd like to move on to a simpler place with fewer things that need fixing. I don't want to be that old elm tree - still standing, but hollow and barely standing upright.

As always, thank you for reading. I pray that you are well, that you are not overwhelmed by your stuff, and that you are remembered for your love for others and the joy you've brought to those around you.

Saturday Morning, Dining Table

 

For Brittany and John

A man can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in his work. This, too, I see, is the hand of God.

Ecclesiastes 2:34

Grizz and I have been discussing the virtue of sitting still and knowing that He is God.

It's Saturday morning. I've found a bit of time to sit, drink coffee, read the bible, and write these words.

I'm drinking coffee from an old porcelain cup. It's not easy to see, but my fingertips tell me the handle has been glued back on. I've had this cup longer than I've been a coffee drinker and much longer than I've been a bible reader. I've had this cup longer than I've been a writer.

Unlike the vacuum-sealed mug I use for drinking coffee at work, this one won't keep the coffee warm all day. There is a slow urgency to drink it in its time while the coffee is warm and all the flavors are evident.

I'm no Solomon, but I know that new things bring only fleeting pleasure and often keep our eyes and our fingertips away from moments like this one.

The house is quiet. The coffee is hot, dark, and a little divine. There is a deep comfort in knowing that this day has started with the  Lord and with coffee in a decades old cup. There's no real rush. There're no headlines. The day ahead is filled with promise, not dread.

I pray, my friends, that you know times like this one and know them often. I pray that you are still enough to know who you are, that days are to be savored - even amidst the bustle to come.

Here's a little Guy Clark to sing you out of here

Stacking Up the Tubs

In the garage I have a storage tub. At any given time I have 3-4 bikes I am working on and I throw all the parts intended for those bikes in the tub. For an indecisive guy like me, it takes a while to gather all the just-right parts to make the bike the right kind of useful or beautiful or both. When (I think) everything is there, I get to work on that bike.

In my computer I have two file folders. One is 2Wheels Maybe and one is for Mesquite Hugger. Blog posts are a lot like bikes. They turn out better when I take time to curate, polish up, and pre-assemble the parts. They work better. Occasionally, they even inspire others a bit.

Lately I've been delving into a new hobby - making videos. This morning I realized that videos, too, are bikes and blog posts. I fill the video tub with images, videos, audio clips, ideas, and storyboards. I am none too good at it, but the videos are getting better. Getting better is better than being good. Striving is better than satisfaction.

Today, I realized that this has been the pattern of my adult life. And I can look back at a shop full of projects that have never made it past the curation tub. Tub after tub has been pushed aside for another type of tub and the curation for another project.

For almost two decades, I 've been a practicing and fairly faithful Christian. Even though I am fascinated by a few Old Testament prophets, I've devoted most of my energies to the New Testament where a savior devoted His time to caring deeply for the poor, the sick, and the marginalized; to teaching and modeling stewardship; to serving others rather than filling tubs with treasure for some day.

Me, I've been curating - reading, studying, praying; but I haven't been putting the pieces together, yet. I'm not sure what the project is, but I am praying that it serves and cares and inspires and glorifies without gathering dust.

May your project tubs lead you to a better place and may they bless countless others along the way.