exit strategy
one month into the new year
which way to the door?

February first and I am worn out both the current everlasting news cycle and my personal journey of floating down the river of discovery with no control.

Trump.

Impeachment.

Bernie.

Impeachment.

Coronavirus.

Kobe.

Impeachment.

Make the noise stop.

PLEASE.

I am tired.

Really tired.

Sleep is a friend who no longer wants to stay all night.

My shoulders hurt if I lay on one side too long.

My head always seems to ache.

I am cold all the time except for when I am too hot.

Me and my stomach don’t seem to like each other very much.

My elbows, MY FREAKING ELBOWS hurt.

Look up any of these symptoms and the word stress is lurking somewhere in the discussion.

Sure these next few months are going to change, choice filled.

Other old issues also rise up off the shelf where I thought I had them hidden away.

I cannot be unique in this respect.

I am not the only one feeling like this.

Most likely my issues are pretty minor.

Very minor in the grand scheme of things.

This can’t be new to human kind.

It is old already with me.

Tired of feeling this way.

Tired of hearing this way.

Tired of thinking this way.

Which way to the door?

looking down AT me
peacoat, blue jeans, cowboy boots
Gosh! what year is this?

I looked down at myself this morning.

I saw the front of my peacoat.

I had one strap of a backpack over my right shoulder.

Blue jeans.

501 Button Fly Levis.

And cowboy boots.

My brain hit a time warp.

Was I walking across the parking lot to the TV station where I worked and it was 2020.

Or was I walking across the diag to a class in Ann Arbor back in 1984.

Was my back pack filled with computers and apple devices.

Or was my back pack filled with books and note pads and an apple for lunch.

I describe my wardrobe as “classic”.

My wife and daughters describe it as “Dad’s clothes”.

Cotton button down shirts.

Khaki slacks.

Both plain and pleated so there.

I am not trying to pull off any look.

I am not trying to dress like a college kid.

I am just trying to be comfortable.

The other day my wife got into a discussion about my shoes with some of the boys.

The boys being son Lucas and Alexis’ baby daddy, Taqir.

Wife points at me as says, “He has worn the same low cut, white Nike’s his whole life.”

I respond that actually over the last 40 years I have had 4 pairs of low cut, white Nike’s.

I asked the boys how long a pair of ALL LEATHER white Nike’s should last?

“10 years at least,” was the answer.

“But it’s all the same looking shoe. When do they go out of style?” says wife.

The boys looked at each other.

Looked back at my wife.

And responded together.

“White, Low Cut, All Leather Nike’s go out of Style?”

“NEVER!”

man on the beach said,
try the other side of the boat.
bread, fish on the fire

Futile.

Futility.

Ugly words.

Waste and frustration.

Driving fast down the wrong road.

Fishing all night and nothing to show for it.

Peter the Apostle and his buddies went fishing one night.

Went fishing and caught nothing.

Tired, frustrated, most likely a little bit cross with life, hauled in their nets and headed for shore as the sun came up.

Far on the shore a man waved and caught their attention.

How is the fishing? the man on the beach yelled.

Peter might have shook his head slowly or held out his hands, palms up to show their were empty.

“Try the other side of the boat?” yelled the man.

I have often wondered just what Peter thought at this moment.

“YOU COME OUT HERE AND TRY THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BOAT!”

Maybe not.

Maybe if the man on the beach is Jesus and he is yelling advice, even if you aren’t sure at that time the man is Jesus, something about the man makes you less likely to question the advice.

So Peter tells his friends they are going to try one more time.

I am sure Tom, Nate, John and Jim and the other two guys were thrilled.

And on the other side of the boat, the net comes up filled with fish.

Peter and his friends drag their nets full of fish onto the beach and find the man there with bread and fish already on a beach fire.

Lots of lessons might be drawn from this story.

Lessons like the answer to problems may be closer than you think.

Try to look at your problems from a different angle.

Turn to the man on the beach for direction and advice with problems.

I like the end of the story.

On the beach, breakfast was ready.

Regardless of how the night of fishing went.

Regardless of whether or not the fisherman took the advice of the man on the beach.

Regardless of whether or not there were any fish on the other side of the boat.

Breakfast was ready.

Ready and waiting.