Imagine that you could free yourself from the corporate world. Clothing labels didn't matter to you, the only desire was comfort. What food you ate wasn't as important as getting to eat. Everyone is your friend, no matter how they treated him the day before.
I've had the pleasure of meeting this young man. Alex came in to my life in April of 2011. He moved from his home in Yamhill to be with us at the Ranch. His pleasures are simple, horses, Yamhill, and driving his tractor. At length he will tell you about Yamhill if given the chance, he has no shortage of desire to talk of home, which includes his two horses and many siblings. Spoken of as if you know them already, when you finally meet anyone from his narratives you feel as if you know them already. A typical description of anything includes so many tangents and rabbit holes that you often forget what the original topic is, but never to worry, Alex won't remember either, he's perfectly happy pursuing his new thoughts, which will change in short order.
Never have I met anyone in my life that was as generous as Alex. He is willing to buy you your hearts desire... the only problem, he does not understand the value of money. A lot of money is $200 and not very expensive is $1. There is no other value. He can barely read and can't count all that well, so in his mind, he just doesn't have enough money for it or he can buy as many as he could possibly get. I've toyed with the idea of buying him lottery tickets for the sole purpose of getting everything that I ever want. If he had the money, he would make it possible. Candy bar $1, tractor $200.
This young man has really changed how I see those with disabilities. He struggles to do many of the things that we take for granted, walking, brushing his teeth, even bathing. These are things that he needs help with. He is never embarrassed by his inability but takes it in stride. He is happy to help however he can, even in his limited strength, but don't count him out. He will surprise you. I'm glad to call him my friend, and know that he calls me his.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Where's the Fire
Have you ever encountered a scenario that someone reacted completely different than how you would expect?
In January, the guys and I took a short retreat into Bend to get away from the rigors or work and the frustration of the day to day. Calling roll would include me and the job coach, Joe, Alex, Robby, Daniel, Mike, and Mark. Excitement bubbling over, we pulled up to a house near Sisters that we would be staying in and settled in for what would be a ride. As the guys settled in and got used to the surroundings, Joe and I plotted the next day with as much certainty as we could. Nothing prepared us for what we actually ran in to.
Things started simple enough, we ate breakfast, boarded the van, and took the 20 minute drive to Bend where we planned to first explore Wall St. We found abundant parking... our Rock Star permit made this easier than the average person will experience, and set out on foot to see where the day would take us.
I've been to Bend numerous times, but I'm not usually hindered on where I will go so I usually end up in a pub, bellied up watching whatever sport happens to be on at the time. Without this luxury, I actually go to see the shops that line the main drag. There's a lot of them. Toy Stores, Candy Shops, even a hobby shop that I found interesting enough to forget that I was still watching several of the guys.
It was at this juncture in the day that we ran in to a bit of a snag. If you've ever needed to use a bathroom when in downtown Bend, I'm sorry, I feel your pain, and I can one up you any time you ever want to complain. Try finding a bathroom where you can leave four guys unsupervised while you help out in whatever way you can. This proved impossible. I unfortunately had to leave a pair of guys with Joe, a pair of guys in the hobby shop and take one on to a restroom at a tea shop.
It's polite to make sure the bathroom is for public use but I wasn't about to tell the guy behind the counter the kind of emergency he was dealing with if he didn't just let me have the key, so I managed to provide a restroom for a very relieved young man. Chaos ensue. I thought it would take a few minutes. A few minutes stretched in to fifteen, I was a little impatient and instead of knocking on the door, I rushed back toward where I left everyone. Joe was headed toward the shop as I passed and I gave him instructions and where to wait. I hurried to collect the last two guys and set back to the shop.
I have a hard time sitting and waiting so it must have been torture for the four other guys that I work with as we sat for the interim. By now it had been a solid 20 minutes and our 5Th guy was not to be seen. One by one, the rest of our troop expressed a desire to use the restroom and I found it easier to take the guys to another shop. We had to cross two streets, but we found a nice open place to sit and a restroom with easy access that I could see every guy go in and come back out. This is an important lesson to remember.
Having told Joe where we would be, I figured he would be along shortly. No such luck. I walked out to the corner where I could see Joe standing in front of the tea shop. He caught sight of me and with what I'm going to guess was a confused, slightly amused look, waved me over. I gathered our force and set off again for the shop. I arrived to find Joe and our last guy standing to the side of the building. As quick survey of the area showed littered glass, a broken glass door, and a fire extinguisher sitting on the ground.
Wheels turned, planets aligned, and pistons pumped. Realization dawned and I caught Joe's eye to a look that said it all. The expression could only be interpreted as "What in the World!" There was no explaining it. Our guy himself couldn't even tell you what went through his mind. He though one thing while reality was slightly different. Fire extinguish + bracket + (F=MA) - glass window = where I was standing at that moment. There was no reason to panic but I wasn't sure if I should. Everyone involved was fine. The window was not. We waited and did the only thing that we could, we laughed.
In January, the guys and I took a short retreat into Bend to get away from the rigors or work and the frustration of the day to day. Calling roll would include me and the job coach, Joe, Alex, Robby, Daniel, Mike, and Mark. Excitement bubbling over, we pulled up to a house near Sisters that we would be staying in and settled in for what would be a ride. As the guys settled in and got used to the surroundings, Joe and I plotted the next day with as much certainty as we could. Nothing prepared us for what we actually ran in to.
Things started simple enough, we ate breakfast, boarded the van, and took the 20 minute drive to Bend where we planned to first explore Wall St. We found abundant parking... our Rock Star permit made this easier than the average person will experience, and set out on foot to see where the day would take us.
I've been to Bend numerous times, but I'm not usually hindered on where I will go so I usually end up in a pub, bellied up watching whatever sport happens to be on at the time. Without this luxury, I actually go to see the shops that line the main drag. There's a lot of them. Toy Stores, Candy Shops, even a hobby shop that I found interesting enough to forget that I was still watching several of the guys.
It was at this juncture in the day that we ran in to a bit of a snag. If you've ever needed to use a bathroom when in downtown Bend, I'm sorry, I feel your pain, and I can one up you any time you ever want to complain. Try finding a bathroom where you can leave four guys unsupervised while you help out in whatever way you can. This proved impossible. I unfortunately had to leave a pair of guys with Joe, a pair of guys in the hobby shop and take one on to a restroom at a tea shop.
It's polite to make sure the bathroom is for public use but I wasn't about to tell the guy behind the counter the kind of emergency he was dealing with if he didn't just let me have the key, so I managed to provide a restroom for a very relieved young man. Chaos ensue. I thought it would take a few minutes. A few minutes stretched in to fifteen, I was a little impatient and instead of knocking on the door, I rushed back toward where I left everyone. Joe was headed toward the shop as I passed and I gave him instructions and where to wait. I hurried to collect the last two guys and set back to the shop.
I have a hard time sitting and waiting so it must have been torture for the four other guys that I work with as we sat for the interim. By now it had been a solid 20 minutes and our 5Th guy was not to be seen. One by one, the rest of our troop expressed a desire to use the restroom and I found it easier to take the guys to another shop. We had to cross two streets, but we found a nice open place to sit and a restroom with easy access that I could see every guy go in and come back out. This is an important lesson to remember.
Having told Joe where we would be, I figured he would be along shortly. No such luck. I walked out to the corner where I could see Joe standing in front of the tea shop. He caught sight of me and with what I'm going to guess was a confused, slightly amused look, waved me over. I gathered our force and set off again for the shop. I arrived to find Joe and our last guy standing to the side of the building. As quick survey of the area showed littered glass, a broken glass door, and a fire extinguisher sitting on the ground.
Wheels turned, planets aligned, and pistons pumped. Realization dawned and I caught Joe's eye to a look that said it all. The expression could only be interpreted as "What in the World!" There was no explaining it. Our guy himself couldn't even tell you what went through his mind. He though one thing while reality was slightly different. Fire extinguish + bracket + (F=MA) - glass window = where I was standing at that moment. There was no reason to panic but I wasn't sure if I should. Everyone involved was fine. The window was not. We waited and did the only thing that we could, we laughed.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Identity
I sent an email the other day to a man that I met at church. It was a new church to me but for some reason I felt like the person who was welcoming him to the church. He was a front row Joe, which leads me to believe that he's heavily involved in the church, even sitting up front with his 7 year old son. I had confidence in my position because I was surrounded by my ministry and was who I am when I am at work with the guys. One question that I asked him was "What do you do?".
More than just asking him what he did for work, I was asking him what kinds of things he liked to do. Who he is, what Makes him, him? The question went down to the board and I was glad to see it there, making sense to me. It was a question that I was glad to ask and was genuinely interested in what the answers were. I was asking for his identity.
When I used to think of my identity, I didn't think much past my name and maybe where I lived. That's all that made up me. Asking the same question now, I get a sense of how much the question 'who are You' really means. Turning it around, I have begun to ask myself who am I.
I've been struggling to find the answer to this question because once I realize who I am, my behavior changes because I will act out my 'self-understood' identity. I steal this quote from Kris Vallotton. I wish to know who I am. What I stand for. I am so tired of having little to no idea of how I will respond to some situations and scared of how I have reacted at times to other situations that occur to me. My current job presents me with every kind of situation that you never imagined might be a problem.
I need to stop distracting myself with this world and start listening to hear the words that God is speaking to me. I need to hear the name that he calls me and accept who he sees me as. There isn't much that I won't do to keep from pursuing God. My pride needs to die so that I can feel God's presence. I wish my heart to break so that I can truly live the life that God has for me.
More than just asking him what he did for work, I was asking him what kinds of things he liked to do. Who he is, what Makes him, him? The question went down to the board and I was glad to see it there, making sense to me. It was a question that I was glad to ask and was genuinely interested in what the answers were. I was asking for his identity.
When I used to think of my identity, I didn't think much past my name and maybe where I lived. That's all that made up me. Asking the same question now, I get a sense of how much the question 'who are You' really means. Turning it around, I have begun to ask myself who am I.
I've been struggling to find the answer to this question because once I realize who I am, my behavior changes because I will act out my 'self-understood' identity. I steal this quote from Kris Vallotton. I wish to know who I am. What I stand for. I am so tired of having little to no idea of how I will respond to some situations and scared of how I have reacted at times to other situations that occur to me. My current job presents me with every kind of situation that you never imagined might be a problem.
I need to stop distracting myself with this world and start listening to hear the words that God is speaking to me. I need to hear the name that he calls me and accept who he sees me as. There isn't much that I won't do to keep from pursuing God. My pride needs to die so that I can feel God's presence. I wish my heart to break so that I can truly live the life that God has for me.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
2012
Another year has come and gone and new hope and supposed wisdom was blessed upon me at the conclusion of 2011. Right? No!! Not exactly anyway. My cliche start here leads me to some not too cliche reminiscence for the year in review.
2011 was just another year to me. It's a step in the direction that takes me, where? I accomplished some new things in the year and didn't get to do some of the old things that I had set out to do. I've found myself a job and have worked/lived in the same place for nearly 10 months now. That is the longest since leaving Portland in 2007. I've learned a fair bit about myself and also learned what I cannot do. Those admittances have been harder to take than most anything else of the year.
No one likes to see their self as weak and it's been hard admission for me in this past year. The place I work, the people that I've met, and the relationships that I've been a part of have placed a big ole' spotlight on my faults, ouch!! I would normally boast about how I'm going to turn it around in the coming year, but I just don't have the energy to do everything that I would desire to do for 2012. I don't like being weak, but in a few things, I very much am.
So how do I move forward with just a little bit of hope... I don't know, but I move forward. I expect that God will move me in the right direction as he did for much of 2011. I just hope I'm not blind to his prompting. I just need to continue to move in a direction and trust that God will stir within me the desire to follow a path that is in his will for me.
2012, take it easy on me and if you must kick me in the teeth, forgive me for kicking back.
2011 was just another year to me. It's a step in the direction that takes me, where? I accomplished some new things in the year and didn't get to do some of the old things that I had set out to do. I've found myself a job and have worked/lived in the same place for nearly 10 months now. That is the longest since leaving Portland in 2007. I've learned a fair bit about myself and also learned what I cannot do. Those admittances have been harder to take than most anything else of the year.
No one likes to see their self as weak and it's been hard admission for me in this past year. The place I work, the people that I've met, and the relationships that I've been a part of have placed a big ole' spotlight on my faults, ouch!! I would normally boast about how I'm going to turn it around in the coming year, but I just don't have the energy to do everything that I would desire to do for 2012. I don't like being weak, but in a few things, I very much am.
So how do I move forward with just a little bit of hope... I don't know, but I move forward. I expect that God will move me in the right direction as he did for much of 2011. I just hope I'm not blind to his prompting. I just need to continue to move in a direction and trust that God will stir within me the desire to follow a path that is in his will for me.
2012, take it easy on me and if you must kick me in the teeth, forgive me for kicking back.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
... the season
I opted out of the word "tis" because I don't want this to become a habit for me. This morning I learned that a very close friend of mine passed away. That is not the main point of my writing today, but I think I want to share some things about it.
I don't deal with death... well. I would leave off the end of that, but everyone has to live through the death of other people. You don't just get to sit down and say, "it ends right here for me". I used to be the one that made jokes, then I was the one that got angry, as I've gotten older, I've learned different ways to move past people that I care about that are moving on.
Sitting in my house after working around the guys today, I'm still the daily living coach for Mark 2 Ministries, I have observed how they cope with this loss. Some of them want to be alone, some want to be with people, and some make inappropriate comments that don't sit well. I began to strum on my guitar, I don't play well, but I do have a few songs that I've been trying to learn for a while now. One just happened to be "Silent Night". It's a classic Christmas song about the birth of Jesus.
Understanding washed over me and I realized that Christmas is the time that gives people hope to live on when the ones we love have gone before us. I know that death isn't the end and that I will get to be with my friend again. For the time being, it is still a painful loss, but there is hope in the one that came to set us free. To give us hope in his life, and the time of year is here and now that we celebrate his coming.
I suspect that I will break down and cry at some point today, but for now, I'm hanging on by a thread, distracting myself with the work that I have to do because I don't know what else to do. It reminded me of Paul in the story immediately following Jesus' death. Paul was the one who had ample reason to be ashamed of his actions the day of Jesus' death, he denied him. But he realized that he was still a follower and instead of walking away from Jesus, he walked back. By doing what? By doing what he knew how to do. He was a fisherman, so he went fishing, and Jesus appeared on the shore in the midst of his work. I'm going to carry out what I know to do and do that job that I can, and hopefully it will give Jesus a chance to show up on my shore.
I don't deal with death... well. I would leave off the end of that, but everyone has to live through the death of other people. You don't just get to sit down and say, "it ends right here for me". I used to be the one that made jokes, then I was the one that got angry, as I've gotten older, I've learned different ways to move past people that I care about that are moving on.
Sitting in my house after working around the guys today, I'm still the daily living coach for Mark 2 Ministries, I have observed how they cope with this loss. Some of them want to be alone, some want to be with people, and some make inappropriate comments that don't sit well. I began to strum on my guitar, I don't play well, but I do have a few songs that I've been trying to learn for a while now. One just happened to be "Silent Night". It's a classic Christmas song about the birth of Jesus.
Understanding washed over me and I realized that Christmas is the time that gives people hope to live on when the ones we love have gone before us. I know that death isn't the end and that I will get to be with my friend again. For the time being, it is still a painful loss, but there is hope in the one that came to set us free. To give us hope in his life, and the time of year is here and now that we celebrate his coming.
I suspect that I will break down and cry at some point today, but for now, I'm hanging on by a thread, distracting myself with the work that I have to do because I don't know what else to do. It reminded me of Paul in the story immediately following Jesus' death. Paul was the one who had ample reason to be ashamed of his actions the day of Jesus' death, he denied him. But he realized that he was still a follower and instead of walking away from Jesus, he walked back. By doing what? By doing what he knew how to do. He was a fisherman, so he went fishing, and Jesus appeared on the shore in the midst of his work. I'm going to carry out what I know to do and do that job that I can, and hopefully it will give Jesus a chance to show up on my shore.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
The things you don't want to
There are things in your life that you just don't want to do. Some of things you can't admit to, and even struggle with yourself to find another reality because the truth of it is just too much to bear. I've struggled with one of these lies for far too long and have recently decided that enough is enough. I'm not a convincing liar. I never really was, so the fact the I deluded myself for so long just proves to me that I might be more than a little crazy.
I've put words to it. I've admitted that I have a weakness and now am taking steps to rid myself of this issue. If you're only reading at this point to know what the issue is, I'm sorry, but I won't reveal it at this time. Maybe down the road when it isn't such a fresh wound will I take off the bandage and show people the scar of what has held me captive for so long.
That last line above just flowed quite clearly because I know that I'm not doing this alone. When you fall on your face and realize that you aren't as strong as you once thought yourself, you are not at your weakest. If anything, this is one of the true strengths of the human spirit. Only when we are weak are we truly strong enough to go before the one that is here to set captives free.
He waits. He calls softly and waits. It is up to you to realize that Jesus is always by your side and never leaves or forsakes you. Leave your pride at the door, because once you go to him, you will be broken.
I was spanked as a child... some people reading this are probably saying to themselves that this explains a lot, well it does. My dad never spanked my in his anger. I've been told again and again that I carry the same anger that he does and I have struggled at times to keep it in check. I have flown off the handle to a point that I've scared people that have known me for years, worse... I've scared myself. I've looked at someone in a blood rage and just wanted them to cower before me in the pain that I wanted to inflict upon them.
This same rage comes from somewhere... I guess from my dad. I've never seen him like this. So I know that if it had come out when I was being punished, he would easily have knocked me through a wall. Instead, he punished mostly to get our attention. In such a loving way, our Savior, Jesus, punishes us. He allows us to inflict it on ourselves, which is the worst punishment I can imagine. I'm always the worst to myself. You can't bring your ire against me the way that I can bring it against me.
I'm sheltered. I'm afraid. I'm not alone. I have the best support system in the universe. Ask me about his sometime. He might just surprise you at how well he already knows you and how much he already loves you.
I've put words to it. I've admitted that I have a weakness and now am taking steps to rid myself of this issue. If you're only reading at this point to know what the issue is, I'm sorry, but I won't reveal it at this time. Maybe down the road when it isn't such a fresh wound will I take off the bandage and show people the scar of what has held me captive for so long.
That last line above just flowed quite clearly because I know that I'm not doing this alone. When you fall on your face and realize that you aren't as strong as you once thought yourself, you are not at your weakest. If anything, this is one of the true strengths of the human spirit. Only when we are weak are we truly strong enough to go before the one that is here to set captives free.
He waits. He calls softly and waits. It is up to you to realize that Jesus is always by your side and never leaves or forsakes you. Leave your pride at the door, because once you go to him, you will be broken.
I was spanked as a child... some people reading this are probably saying to themselves that this explains a lot, well it does. My dad never spanked my in his anger. I've been told again and again that I carry the same anger that he does and I have struggled at times to keep it in check. I have flown off the handle to a point that I've scared people that have known me for years, worse... I've scared myself. I've looked at someone in a blood rage and just wanted them to cower before me in the pain that I wanted to inflict upon them.
This same rage comes from somewhere... I guess from my dad. I've never seen him like this. So I know that if it had come out when I was being punished, he would easily have knocked me through a wall. Instead, he punished mostly to get our attention. In such a loving way, our Savior, Jesus, punishes us. He allows us to inflict it on ourselves, which is the worst punishment I can imagine. I'm always the worst to myself. You can't bring your ire against me the way that I can bring it against me.
I'm sheltered. I'm afraid. I'm not alone. I have the best support system in the universe. Ask me about his sometime. He might just surprise you at how well he already knows you and how much he already loves you.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Back Burns
The hillside outside of my house is black. Fires raged through this camp burning just about anything that was burnable a few weeks back and it left as much as a third of the camp a charred and black, sooty mess. Some of the camp wasn't burned as a result of the lightning storms, but because of back burns. This is about those fires.
I watched them start around 5 in the afternoon and they burned much into the evening. Some of which I watched from the back of a Polaris 700. An ATV that had so much power, I thought it would come alive and buck me off on a few occasions. I rode patrol up and back on the main road, checking and double checking the groups that were keeping a watch at the road to make sure the fire didn't jump to the main part of camp.
It seemed a waste to watch so much land burn without any reason why. They claim they needed to stop the fire somewhere and the road was the most readily available place to do that. These burns especially tore through areas that I was starting to explore a bit more freely.
What are my hikes going to look like in the months to come. Until the rains really start the grass can start to grow back, I'm going to be left trudging through a depressing landscape with little to mark the passage but burned out trees and tufts of dead grass. It doesn't look the same as before, but adventure, new adventures is what is the best part of hiking. Maybe something exciting will come from it. Only time will tell.
I watched them start around 5 in the afternoon and they burned much into the evening. Some of which I watched from the back of a Polaris 700. An ATV that had so much power, I thought it would come alive and buck me off on a few occasions. I rode patrol up and back on the main road, checking and double checking the groups that were keeping a watch at the road to make sure the fire didn't jump to the main part of camp.
It seemed a waste to watch so much land burn without any reason why. They claim they needed to stop the fire somewhere and the road was the most readily available place to do that. These burns especially tore through areas that I was starting to explore a bit more freely.
What are my hikes going to look like in the months to come. Until the rains really start the grass can start to grow back, I'm going to be left trudging through a depressing landscape with little to mark the passage but burned out trees and tufts of dead grass. It doesn't look the same as before, but adventure, new adventures is what is the best part of hiking. Maybe something exciting will come from it. Only time will tell.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Fire Crew
It was a normal Wednesday. As normal as you can find living in a Young Life camp in the middle of nowhere. One of the guys had family in camp and it was a pizza night, just like every Wednesday. We were sitting in the house, preparing for bible study when flashes of light started shooting out of the sky and landing all around us. The percussion of some of these blasts shook buildings, scared animals, and started fires.
As the camp was scrambling people to get them to fire lines, and protect the villages, Mark 2 was scrambling to fuel villages in case of an evacuation. Camp staff managed to control the nearest of the many fires around property and we never had to evacuate, but that didn't mean the danger to the camp was over.
That night I asked, begged, pleaded to go out on fire crews but was told that I needed to stay in camp in case we needed to drive to guys to a place of safety. I was frustrated watching vehicles drive up seldom used roads in and around camp. I guess my boss had a valid point, but I would rather have been out on lines.
With the end of the day Thursday, however, there became urgent need of more and more people to man the lines. I was officially on my weekend and I could do what I wanted, so I went to war. A paniced voice hollered out over the radio calling for every available body to man lines. I was ready and available and hadn't been out all the night before so I was fresh legs.
It turns out that your legs will carry you even when your body doesn't want them to. You can walk up and down hills fighting fire until you are about ready to drop from fatigue. Looking in to the eyes of guys that hadn't slept in almost two days, you could tell they would still willingly walk up another hill even if their body was screaming for rest. Several people were indeed sent home and more of the camp staff showed up for fire crews as the weekend approached. It was a new battle, they had fresh crews.
So up and down, through smoke, through fire, through burned out remains of forrest that I used to enjoy on my hikes, I walked. Much of the time carrying an extra 60 pounds of gear, but I never seemed to tire. Something was lending strength to not just me, but everyone. Looking back on it now, it's quite clear that much of what strength we didn't have to use was coming from God.
The terrain around camp is steep. The actual camp is the lowest spot on the property and it was rather easy to keep the fires from spreading into the camp proper, but that doesn't mean the lines didn't run up and down ridges surrounding the camp. I spent the better part of two days perched on a hill above what is called West Village. It's a mostly abandon part of camp that was in use recently for the contractors as they built the new Creekside camp.
On one side of the hill was a clear view of the houses, on the other was the smoking remains of a juniper forrest that was burned out and still trying to smolder back to life. I've dug myself knee deep in hot ash to save trees that it didn't matter if they burned or not, and many of them still did. As of right now, the fire on that ridge has not spread.
Unfortunately, with that victory, and a few others around camp, there is a large section in the southeast of camp that we can do nothing about right now. There are crews up fighting it as I type and the land is not friendly to the unexperienced hiker. I enjoy the tops of these hills that are burning now, but never the hike to them. Fires are clearly visible from my house, and the ridgelines were glowing last night with encroaching fire. I'm off the line today, as I had to go back to work, but that doesn't mean there aren't 50 other people up cutting lines in the earth to hold back the inferno.
As the camp was scrambling people to get them to fire lines, and protect the villages, Mark 2 was scrambling to fuel villages in case of an evacuation. Camp staff managed to control the nearest of the many fires around property and we never had to evacuate, but that didn't mean the danger to the camp was over.
That night I asked, begged, pleaded to go out on fire crews but was told that I needed to stay in camp in case we needed to drive to guys to a place of safety. I was frustrated watching vehicles drive up seldom used roads in and around camp. I guess my boss had a valid point, but I would rather have been out on lines.
With the end of the day Thursday, however, there became urgent need of more and more people to man the lines. I was officially on my weekend and I could do what I wanted, so I went to war. A paniced voice hollered out over the radio calling for every available body to man lines. I was ready and available and hadn't been out all the night before so I was fresh legs.
It turns out that your legs will carry you even when your body doesn't want them to. You can walk up and down hills fighting fire until you are about ready to drop from fatigue. Looking in to the eyes of guys that hadn't slept in almost two days, you could tell they would still willingly walk up another hill even if their body was screaming for rest. Several people were indeed sent home and more of the camp staff showed up for fire crews as the weekend approached. It was a new battle, they had fresh crews.
So up and down, through smoke, through fire, through burned out remains of forrest that I used to enjoy on my hikes, I walked. Much of the time carrying an extra 60 pounds of gear, but I never seemed to tire. Something was lending strength to not just me, but everyone. Looking back on it now, it's quite clear that much of what strength we didn't have to use was coming from God.
The terrain around camp is steep. The actual camp is the lowest spot on the property and it was rather easy to keep the fires from spreading into the camp proper, but that doesn't mean the lines didn't run up and down ridges surrounding the camp. I spent the better part of two days perched on a hill above what is called West Village. It's a mostly abandon part of camp that was in use recently for the contractors as they built the new Creekside camp.
On one side of the hill was a clear view of the houses, on the other was the smoking remains of a juniper forrest that was burned out and still trying to smolder back to life. I've dug myself knee deep in hot ash to save trees that it didn't matter if they burned or not, and many of them still did. As of right now, the fire on that ridge has not spread.
Unfortunately, with that victory, and a few others around camp, there is a large section in the southeast of camp that we can do nothing about right now. There are crews up fighting it as I type and the land is not friendly to the unexperienced hiker. I enjoy the tops of these hills that are burning now, but never the hike to them. Fires are clearly visible from my house, and the ridgelines were glowing last night with encroaching fire. I'm off the line today, as I had to go back to work, but that doesn't mean there aren't 50 other people up cutting lines in the earth to hold back the inferno.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Changing Events
Sometimes it seems like the world doesn't turn in my direction. It seems like I can't get ahead and the harder I try the worse things get for me. I struggle with friends, faith, relationships, family, any number of things, because I always need to control the way things are going. I'm sure all 3 of you who ever read this will agree that the tighter you hold on to something, the faster it slips away.
I've finally given up trying to hold on to things and look what happens, they start to fall in to place. The last few weeks have been a living hell. I'm not sleeping, it's hard to eat, my stomach/chest/head is constantly hurting, and I'm pretty sure that I had a panic attack last week. If I didn't know my body that well I would be more worried that it was a heart attack, but it was just chest pains caused by stress and becoming overwhelmed with my life.
Today while sitting by the pool over at Creekside, I had a good conversation with a friend of mine. We managed to talk for about a half hour and I had nothing bad to say about my life. It was then that I realized that I'm letting myself not worry about the day to day flow of events and just letting things happen. The universe doens't just run itself so it must be something else that is steering me around and through the squabbles of this crazy exhistance.
I'm glad to say for the first time, truly, since I've moved to Antelope, I am letting God steer my life. He was instrumental in my move to the property and many of the events in my life up to that point, but once I got into the roll I"m in now, I stepped on the brake and said that's far enough God, I'm driving, get in the passenger seat.
It only took getting scared. I don't scare easily and that's all it took. Just a few days and again I'm comfortable, I managed to sleep, and my body is actually acting like I'm young. I plan on being around for a few years yet, I believe I told a friend of mine a month ago I was going to make it to 96. I have a ways yet.
PS I have permission to use the photo from the owner. :)
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
August
It's coming down to the end of the summer and things are just going a bit crazy around me. With assignment teams for the camp coming and going, there is a constant stream of people moving in and out of my life. I feel like there is never really time to get to know any of them before they are gone, to further complicate things, my job change has moved me to the very edge of camp where I spend most of my days. I rarely venture as far as the main camp and almost never venture to the middle school camp, so my life has become a bit isolated.
I didn't realize how much until this morning. Wednesdays are my day to job coach for the guys in the morning. I supervise their work and make sure that they are on task and continue to work in a fashion that both helps them and the camp. An order came in to the Iron Kettle (dining hall) and we helped them put it away. It was a small order, and therefore didn't take much time, but the little time that I got to spend helping them out felt like a mini vacation from the cooking and cleaning that I do every other day of the week.
Backing up a little to the assignment teams, they aren't the only people that are fixing to leave. Here in the first part of September, there will be a number of staff people that leave property. The end of the summer is joined by the end of a job for kitchen and grounds staff, some of which I've become very good friends with, mainly because they have been here so much longer.
Looking forward a bit, once the summer ends, my job will change further. They guys will have an easier time of work and my day will almost exclusively be spent in the Mark 2 area of camp. I won't leave unless I have business elsewhere, but I won't really ever have business elsewhere. What will my isolation look like then?
I've made some new friends, and many of them will be here longer than I am, so I'm not too worried about my island. I will be isolated, but I have God. He's been enough help to get me here in the first place and will continue to provide me with the guidance that I need in the months to come. I need to focus on what he needs me to do and listen carefully to learn the things he is trying to teach me. After all, I will be on an island and will have plenty of time to hear.
I didn't realize how much until this morning. Wednesdays are my day to job coach for the guys in the morning. I supervise their work and make sure that they are on task and continue to work in a fashion that both helps them and the camp. An order came in to the Iron Kettle (dining hall) and we helped them put it away. It was a small order, and therefore didn't take much time, but the little time that I got to spend helping them out felt like a mini vacation from the cooking and cleaning that I do every other day of the week.
Backing up a little to the assignment teams, they aren't the only people that are fixing to leave. Here in the first part of September, there will be a number of staff people that leave property. The end of the summer is joined by the end of a job for kitchen and grounds staff, some of which I've become very good friends with, mainly because they have been here so much longer.
Looking forward a bit, once the summer ends, my job will change further. They guys will have an easier time of work and my day will almost exclusively be spent in the Mark 2 area of camp. I won't leave unless I have business elsewhere, but I won't really ever have business elsewhere. What will my isolation look like then?
I've made some new friends, and many of them will be here longer than I am, so I'm not too worried about my island. I will be isolated, but I have God. He's been enough help to get me here in the first place and will continue to provide me with the guidance that I need in the months to come. I need to focus on what he needs me to do and listen carefully to learn the things he is trying to teach me. After all, I will be on an island and will have plenty of time to hear.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
A Quarter or two for $15
Part of my job is just way too interesting to explain, so you would have to experience it for yourself to really get the scope of what I get to take part in every day. The men that I work with have limited understanding of this life and part of my job is going to them, understanding the world the way that they do and finding a way for them to exist in a world that takes advantage of their limited world view.
I had an excellent opportunity to learn about one of my guys the other day. It has come to my attention, that Alex, a man of 21 years, can't count, has no concept of what money is worth and further, doesn't know what the symbols on the bills mean exactly.
A little bit of a back story here. I'm basically the den mother in the guys house these days. I cook and clean, pick up after them, help them with their individual chores, and basically get them through each day while trying to teach them to be more self reliant than they were in the first place. Getting them to pick up after themselves has been one of the biggest chores for me. I spend a lot of time moving shoes and clothes out of the way, so finally I came up with a simple solution. Any clothing or shoes that are not put away properly become the property of the house, and they can buy them back for a quarter.
The other day, Alex left his shoes in the middle of the walkway, and not only are they a hazard to him, he has Cerebral Palsy, they are in the way of the other guys and therefore become property of the house. I don't go out of my way to take their things from them. The rule has been in effect for 3 weeks now and I've only collected about $2. He learned quickly to put his shoes away when he takes them off, but on this instance, he did not.
I took them and he could buy them back for 50 cents. I told him as much and he complained about not being able to go to the movie with the other guys because we were going to have all his money. This did not make sense to me and Joe looked as confused as I felt. Joe has taken over as the job coach for the guys when I moved to the daily living duties. My failure was thinking that Alex understood how much money he had and that the fine was not going to break his bank. He grumbled and stumbled upstairs and we could hear him fumbling around for a minute. He stomped down the stairs and walking into the kitchen to hand me his money.
I want to draw your attention to a previous paragraph. Remember how Alex can't read, now look at the title of this blog. By this point you probably have figured out that he handed me a $10 and a $5, thinking that this was the cost of getting his shoes back. It then made sense why he thought he was not going to have the money for the movie (we pay for that for him) and helped me realize that they think in a different fashion than I do.
Instead of taking the offered $15, I went upstairs with Alex and showed him what we meant by 50 cents, and it was a simple matter of quarters being the "silver" coins. Now I have to watch out for dimes and nickels being replaced with quarters as he doesn't know the difference, but at least I can see one thing that he thinks differently on. I need to simplify a lot of my thinking to connect with him, but at least I have a starting point.
I had an excellent opportunity to learn about one of my guys the other day. It has come to my attention, that Alex, a man of 21 years, can't count, has no concept of what money is worth and further, doesn't know what the symbols on the bills mean exactly.
A little bit of a back story here. I'm basically the den mother in the guys house these days. I cook and clean, pick up after them, help them with their individual chores, and basically get them through each day while trying to teach them to be more self reliant than they were in the first place. Getting them to pick up after themselves has been one of the biggest chores for me. I spend a lot of time moving shoes and clothes out of the way, so finally I came up with a simple solution. Any clothing or shoes that are not put away properly become the property of the house, and they can buy them back for a quarter.
The other day, Alex left his shoes in the middle of the walkway, and not only are they a hazard to him, he has Cerebral Palsy, they are in the way of the other guys and therefore become property of the house. I don't go out of my way to take their things from them. The rule has been in effect for 3 weeks now and I've only collected about $2. He learned quickly to put his shoes away when he takes them off, but on this instance, he did not.
I took them and he could buy them back for 50 cents. I told him as much and he complained about not being able to go to the movie with the other guys because we were going to have all his money. This did not make sense to me and Joe looked as confused as I felt. Joe has taken over as the job coach for the guys when I moved to the daily living duties. My failure was thinking that Alex understood how much money he had and that the fine was not going to break his bank. He grumbled and stumbled upstairs and we could hear him fumbling around for a minute. He stomped down the stairs and walking into the kitchen to hand me his money.
I want to draw your attention to a previous paragraph. Remember how Alex can't read, now look at the title of this blog. By this point you probably have figured out that he handed me a $10 and a $5, thinking that this was the cost of getting his shoes back. It then made sense why he thought he was not going to have the money for the movie (we pay for that for him) and helped me realize that they think in a different fashion than I do.
Instead of taking the offered $15, I went upstairs with Alex and showed him what we meant by 50 cents, and it was a simple matter of quarters being the "silver" coins. Now I have to watch out for dimes and nickels being replaced with quarters as he doesn't know the difference, but at least I can see one thing that he thinks differently on. I need to simplify a lot of my thinking to connect with him, but at least I have a starting point.
Feeling Gross feels so Good!
It only take a mile. Sometimes not even that much and I start to sweat. I think I should head back and talk about the history of my life up to this spectacular moment. I am a runner. I run miles and miles, and sometimes I don't run miles at all. In my day, the ones that I was a track star, I ran hurdles, and a quarter mile was about all that I ever ran. Thinking back on that glorious moment of my life, I enjoyed so much the feeling of being utterly spent and just laying on the ground... just done.
Just done... that is such an odd way to feel. Not often in your life will you feel this way and be completely happy about your inability to move even the smallest of your muscles. The decathalon was the hardest thing I ever accomplished, and I did it the best that I could. Today, I realize things that I could have done different and it's unfortunate, but I can't go back and change them, all I can do is go forward.
The other day, I went for a run. Running never bothered me, I can run. And I can run for a long time, even after a long absence from the activitiy. 3 miles is just a good stretch of the legs, and unfortunately, I picked a day that the temp had climbed into the 90's. When you are a little out of shape and you go running on a hot day, you are going to sweat.
When I got done I felt gross. That feeling you get when you've been working all day and you can feel the grime between your toes, on your back, just chilling out, and then the worst of all, you feel gross in your mouth because you started to sweat in places that you didn't think you could sweat in. I fell great.
In my life I have pushed my body to the outer limit of it's endurance. I have tried to break it in so many ways, but I have been up to task on all of them. What I am usually left with is that feeling when you have sweat just a little too much and want to shower in the worst way. It feels great, I can't get enough and I must run more, I must push myself more, and I have to feel that moment, when I am utterly spent and my body is crying out, "quit" and I tell it to shut the hell up because I love this.
Just done... that is such an odd way to feel. Not often in your life will you feel this way and be completely happy about your inability to move even the smallest of your muscles. The decathalon was the hardest thing I ever accomplished, and I did it the best that I could. Today, I realize things that I could have done different and it's unfortunate, but I can't go back and change them, all I can do is go forward.
The other day, I went for a run. Running never bothered me, I can run. And I can run for a long time, even after a long absence from the activitiy. 3 miles is just a good stretch of the legs, and unfortunately, I picked a day that the temp had climbed into the 90's. When you are a little out of shape and you go running on a hot day, you are going to sweat.
When I got done I felt gross. That feeling you get when you've been working all day and you can feel the grime between your toes, on your back, just chilling out, and then the worst of all, you feel gross in your mouth because you started to sweat in places that you didn't think you could sweat in. I fell great.
In my life I have pushed my body to the outer limit of it's endurance. I have tried to break it in so many ways, but I have been up to task on all of them. What I am usually left with is that feeling when you have sweat just a little too much and want to shower in the worst way. It feels great, I can't get enough and I must run more, I must push myself more, and I have to feel that moment, when I am utterly spent and my body is crying out, "quit" and I tell it to shut the hell up because I love this.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Mark 2 Outing
It's Tuesday. I had a hard time rolling out of bed this morning because every muscle in my body is screaming in agony because of it's over-use yesterday. Ok, so not every muscle, but my back, shoulders, and arms are all about useless. I'm finding in hard to do simple things like wash my hair in the shower or even pick up a fork to eat. They are simply done.
You must be asking yourself why? We went rafting. In any normal group of people, I would make sure that I got to sit in the front of the boat, but on this trip, I didn't get a choice. We had 3 people on the paddles, plus the guide. It was a boat big enough for 8, we had 6, and 2 of them weren't eaven rowing.
To the river we go. It started out pleasent enough, it was some slow moving water, not much of a current and we were learning the commands so we would know what to do if we got into a situation that required a bunch of commands in a row. The other boats and ours got into some splash fights and we got a small cooling down from the mild spray that was bounced into our raft.
Then the fun began. For a little over 3 hours we had slow currents, fast rapids, some swimmers (both volunteer and not), waves pouring over the side and a complete drenching of everything that you had on. I didn't bother taking off my shirt when I climbed into the water at one point because it was soaking wet anyway.
A visiting volunteer was accompanying us because of extra spots that we had in the boats. Alan was taking great joy in watching every wave that came over the front of the boat land right in my lap. He was damp, but nothing compared to the complete dousing that I had taken... until... Coming into the biggest rapid on the trip, our boat took a sudden lurch to the left. A wall of water, like Moses parting the red sea, dove over the front of the boat and I was convinced I was going swimming. At the last second, the current caught the boat and we lurched to the left, throwing Alan from his seat, almost throwing Robby from the boat, and landing the full force of the wave right into... not my chest. I was missed by almost the full wave of water. Alan however, was not so lucky. He could not have been more completely soaked by the wave that washed over him. There was nothing dry on him left to be found.
As much joy as I took in watching him get drenched, I later took the full force of a wave right in my face and came through sputtering incoherently. Robby road through a rapid on the outside of the boat, on purpose, and Mike seemed to enjoy just being out on the water.
Sunburned and with a story to tell, we had lunch at the Imperial Restraunt in Maupin, then headed home. My food sitting heavy in my stomach, my eyes barely remained open to get us home and there was little complaint from anyone when it became time for lights out. They/We were exhausted.
You must be asking yourself why? We went rafting. In any normal group of people, I would make sure that I got to sit in the front of the boat, but on this trip, I didn't get a choice. We had 3 people on the paddles, plus the guide. It was a boat big enough for 8, we had 6, and 2 of them weren't eaven rowing.
To the river we go. It started out pleasent enough, it was some slow moving water, not much of a current and we were learning the commands so we would know what to do if we got into a situation that required a bunch of commands in a row. The other boats and ours got into some splash fights and we got a small cooling down from the mild spray that was bounced into our raft.
Then the fun began. For a little over 3 hours we had slow currents, fast rapids, some swimmers (both volunteer and not), waves pouring over the side and a complete drenching of everything that you had on. I didn't bother taking off my shirt when I climbed into the water at one point because it was soaking wet anyway.
A visiting volunteer was accompanying us because of extra spots that we had in the boats. Alan was taking great joy in watching every wave that came over the front of the boat land right in my lap. He was damp, but nothing compared to the complete dousing that I had taken... until... Coming into the biggest rapid on the trip, our boat took a sudden lurch to the left. A wall of water, like Moses parting the red sea, dove over the front of the boat and I was convinced I was going swimming. At the last second, the current caught the boat and we lurched to the left, throwing Alan from his seat, almost throwing Robby from the boat, and landing the full force of the wave right into... not my chest. I was missed by almost the full wave of water. Alan however, was not so lucky. He could not have been more completely soaked by the wave that washed over him. There was nothing dry on him left to be found.
As much joy as I took in watching him get drenched, I later took the full force of a wave right in my face and came through sputtering incoherently. Robby road through a rapid on the outside of the boat, on purpose, and Mike seemed to enjoy just being out on the water.
Sunburned and with a story to tell, we had lunch at the Imperial Restraunt in Maupin, then headed home. My food sitting heavy in my stomach, my eyes barely remained open to get us home and there was little complaint from anyone when it became time for lights out. They/We were exhausted.
Friday, July 8, 2011
In a Mood
Occasionally, I get in a funky mood and I really have no answer to any of the feelings that are running around through me. Tonight is one of those nights. I hold out hope for a future and sometimes believe that I can see that future, but then, sometimes it's so clouded that I don't understand how I can see anything at all.
I live in a desert. I've mentioned the desert many times to many different people, but I'm starting to see that it's a place to grow. In the book "Dune", one character says, God made Arrakis to train the faithful. "Arrakis" is a desert planet. Very little lives on it and the way of life for the people of the planet is a scratched out exhistance among desert cliffs and a few sinks that keep away the sweltering heat.
The desert, in this book, is always a place of learning, of growing. The desert? I seem to see a lot of desert lately. There are many places in the bible that mention the desert. Sometimes it is a group of people wandering (Israel, Abraham), sometimes you have someone headed out for 40 days, which seems to be significant. All in all, the desert is a place of learning, but I don't want to learn, I want to live and to experience.
Now here I am. I want to be so much further ahead than where God has me right now, but I must wait. It's why I'm in this mood tonight, I believe. There are a hundred scenarios that are going to make me thrilled to be me, but there are just as many that are hammering on me that I'm not sure how I'm going to deal with them. But there is nothing that I can do. I must trust that God is going to take care of me, no matter how much pain I seem to go through at the time.
I live in a desert. I've mentioned the desert many times to many different people, but I'm starting to see that it's a place to grow. In the book "Dune", one character says, God made Arrakis to train the faithful. "Arrakis" is a desert planet. Very little lives on it and the way of life for the people of the planet is a scratched out exhistance among desert cliffs and a few sinks that keep away the sweltering heat.
The desert, in this book, is always a place of learning, of growing. The desert? I seem to see a lot of desert lately. There are many places in the bible that mention the desert. Sometimes it is a group of people wandering (Israel, Abraham), sometimes you have someone headed out for 40 days, which seems to be significant. All in all, the desert is a place of learning, but I don't want to learn, I want to live and to experience.
Now here I am. I want to be so much further ahead than where God has me right now, but I must wait. It's why I'm in this mood tonight, I believe. There are a hundred scenarios that are going to make me thrilled to be me, but there are just as many that are hammering on me that I'm not sure how I'm going to deal with them. But there is nothing that I can do. I must trust that God is going to take care of me, no matter how much pain I seem to go through at the time.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Warfare
The text of this blog is even a mystery to me. I have a friend that asked me for my notes from a church service this past Sunday and instead of just haphazard notes that aren't going to make sense to anyone, I've decided to insert my opinion and expound on them as best I can. There will also be several ideas that come from other sermons that I have heard recently on warfare.
Love and War, these are two principles that I struggle with when it comes to my spiritual walk. I will talk about love another time, I'm focusing today on warfare or the spiritual variety. The Pastor this past Sunday started off with a comment about people convincing themselves that God doesn't love them or isn't real or... something to that effect. It made me curious to see where he was going with the sermon because he spent several minutes telling the congregation that what he was speaking was going to be Truth to him and I could argue if I so choose, but it was as God had spoken to him for the meaning.
I was a little worried, not sure what kind of church I was in, I was visiting some people after all. I wondered the man's opinion on spritual warfare. I've heard a little bit about it and have even been taught how a little bit. I know I don't battle enough and struggle through some things that I really shouldn't. I was under the impression he was ignoring the greater battle that was going on all around us. We are beings that exist on two planes and therefore must protect ourselves on two planes. The seen world, the one we live in, it's easy to protect yourself from the dangers. A speeding car, violent gangs, drugs, Grandma's meatloaf, things are pretty well visible that you should avoid.
The other side of our existance is fought on another plane. We can protect ourselves from the evils of this spiritual world because we are bought and paid for by the blood of Jesus Christ. I've heard it likened to a Police officer pulling you over. You don't stop for the man that is pulling you over, but for the authority that he carries in the badge on his chest. A few calls can get any number of authorities in pursuit of you. In the same sense, all of us walk around with a blood colored badge that protects us from powers and principalities that are trying to destroy us. Stand before a tide of demons and they will laugh and mock you, but pull out that badge and they are then in the presence of THE Divine. They cannot stand against the creator, even they must steer clear of his wrath.
Spiritual Warfare is essentially walking around holding up your badge so the darkness does not overwhelm you. Whether we believe it or not, God is at war with the Devil. Once you signed on and said "yes, I'm going to follow Jesus", you enlisted in this war. You have the best defense there is, you have God on your side. There is nothing greater, nothing stronger, nothing that can stand against his awesome power. It's a continuing process though. You don't just get to hold up your badge once and say, stand back Satan!! He lies, cheats, steals, and he knows you. He finds the cracks in your armor and he strikes hard. We must continue to actively battle. You don't just get to stop after winning one skirmish. Satan is out to bring you down and he doesn't fight fair.
If you are reading this still, at some point in our lives, our path's have crossed and I mean enough to you that you will read something that I write. Nehemiah 4:14 says "Don't be afraid of the enemy! Remember the Lord, who is great and glorious, and fight for your brothers, your sons, your daughters, your wives and your homes." I don't have a family, but I know that doesn't excuse me from the fight. I pray for my brothers and after that, I likely pray for you, specifically by name. I fight for you the way I would for my own family. Don't sit back and let yourself be a casual Christian, fight!! A phalanx works best when all are fighting side by side.
Love and War, these are two principles that I struggle with when it comes to my spiritual walk. I will talk about love another time, I'm focusing today on warfare or the spiritual variety. The Pastor this past Sunday started off with a comment about people convincing themselves that God doesn't love them or isn't real or... something to that effect. It made me curious to see where he was going with the sermon because he spent several minutes telling the congregation that what he was speaking was going to be Truth to him and I could argue if I so choose, but it was as God had spoken to him for the meaning.
I was a little worried, not sure what kind of church I was in, I was visiting some people after all. I wondered the man's opinion on spritual warfare. I've heard a little bit about it and have even been taught how a little bit. I know I don't battle enough and struggle through some things that I really shouldn't. I was under the impression he was ignoring the greater battle that was going on all around us. We are beings that exist on two planes and therefore must protect ourselves on two planes. The seen world, the one we live in, it's easy to protect yourself from the dangers. A speeding car, violent gangs, drugs, Grandma's meatloaf, things are pretty well visible that you should avoid.
The other side of our existance is fought on another plane. We can protect ourselves from the evils of this spiritual world because we are bought and paid for by the blood of Jesus Christ. I've heard it likened to a Police officer pulling you over. You don't stop for the man that is pulling you over, but for the authority that he carries in the badge on his chest. A few calls can get any number of authorities in pursuit of you. In the same sense, all of us walk around with a blood colored badge that protects us from powers and principalities that are trying to destroy us. Stand before a tide of demons and they will laugh and mock you, but pull out that badge and they are then in the presence of THE Divine. They cannot stand against the creator, even they must steer clear of his wrath.
Spiritual Warfare is essentially walking around holding up your badge so the darkness does not overwhelm you. Whether we believe it or not, God is at war with the Devil. Once you signed on and said "yes, I'm going to follow Jesus", you enlisted in this war. You have the best defense there is, you have God on your side. There is nothing greater, nothing stronger, nothing that can stand against his awesome power. It's a continuing process though. You don't just get to hold up your badge once and say, stand back Satan!! He lies, cheats, steals, and he knows you. He finds the cracks in your armor and he strikes hard. We must continue to actively battle. You don't just get to stop after winning one skirmish. Satan is out to bring you down and he doesn't fight fair.
If you are reading this still, at some point in our lives, our path's have crossed and I mean enough to you that you will read something that I write. Nehemiah 4:14 says "Don't be afraid of the enemy! Remember the Lord, who is great and glorious, and fight for your brothers, your sons, your daughters, your wives and your homes." I don't have a family, but I know that doesn't excuse me from the fight. I pray for my brothers and after that, I likely pray for you, specifically by name. I fight for you the way I would for my own family. Don't sit back and let yourself be a casual Christian, fight!! A phalanx works best when all are fighting side by side.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Scenic Viewpoints
Driving north out of Antelope, Oregon, there is very little to see but rolling hills and a few ghost towns. You might see some cattle here and there, maybe a deer. Today while driving, I pulled my car to a stop next to a doe that just started at me for a minute until I drove off. It's a grassland. There is even a town named "Grass Valley" on the drive. The hills are unbroken stretches of mound in all directions and with the exception of a few places that are heavy to the lavender, are brownish green. Grasses that haven't quite been informed that it is summer and they need to turn to the washed out shades that many come to expect from summer in Central Oregon.
Along the Columbia Gorge, it's a different story. There are still the rolling grassy hills, but there are also very lush evergreen forests standing along the river in many places. Some so thick that you can't see the river from just a few hundred feet away. Climbing up out of the gorge on the Washington side, I noticed a few places that were scenic viewpoints. Not really thinking anything of it, I drove on. The view is going to be the same from the car as it is from outside the car, you can just look for longer when you're stopped.
I made my way North this weekend to Seattle and travelled over Snoqualmie pass. Along that pass there are not a few places to pull off and look at mountains and rivers and lakes. Things that I would truly be more interested in. The views weren't obstructed by the ever present gloom of a cloudy day, so I enjoyed some of these views myself.
Travelling back I took no notice of the mountains, I was in a zone. I wanted to get home. After 4 hours in the car, I got to the gorge and while driving down into the valley, I noticed these viewpoints again. Looking out over the edge of the cliff, I also noticed the rolling hills that they were looking at. Every one of them is dotted with windmills. Electic gathering windmills, not a single one of them was even spinning. There was plenty of wind, I had to fight my car along the road for much of the drive in, but viewpoints? What is the point? So you can see all these beautiful windmills that aren't even operating. At least from the freeway along the gorge, you can't hardly see the damns, and you definately can't see them for miles in every direction.
It has come to my attention that ODOT and my opinion of "scenic" are very different. I might pull off to look at things here and their, but I'll be very careful to make sure that it's something that I'm going to want to see.
Along the Columbia Gorge, it's a different story. There are still the rolling grassy hills, but there are also very lush evergreen forests standing along the river in many places. Some so thick that you can't see the river from just a few hundred feet away. Climbing up out of the gorge on the Washington side, I noticed a few places that were scenic viewpoints. Not really thinking anything of it, I drove on. The view is going to be the same from the car as it is from outside the car, you can just look for longer when you're stopped.
I made my way North this weekend to Seattle and travelled over Snoqualmie pass. Along that pass there are not a few places to pull off and look at mountains and rivers and lakes. Things that I would truly be more interested in. The views weren't obstructed by the ever present gloom of a cloudy day, so I enjoyed some of these views myself.
Travelling back I took no notice of the mountains, I was in a zone. I wanted to get home. After 4 hours in the car, I got to the gorge and while driving down into the valley, I noticed these viewpoints again. Looking out over the edge of the cliff, I also noticed the rolling hills that they were looking at. Every one of them is dotted with windmills. Electic gathering windmills, not a single one of them was even spinning. There was plenty of wind, I had to fight my car along the road for much of the drive in, but viewpoints? What is the point? So you can see all these beautiful windmills that aren't even operating. At least from the freeway along the gorge, you can't hardly see the damns, and you definately can't see them for miles in every direction.
It has come to my attention that ODOT and my opinion of "scenic" are very different. I might pull off to look at things here and their, but I'll be very careful to make sure that it's something that I'm going to want to see.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Awesome and Legendary
Like many of my blogs I got an idea and had no idea how to title it, then just a flashing moment I see something that reminds me or something and then of someone and then the title lands on the page. That's a lot of words to say absolutely nothing at all. I could have just said what I'm going to write about and then write, but it's just more fun this way.
Roads are windy and no matter where you are going, how far you have gone, or what route you take, there are always signs; miles to destination, railroad crossing, mile posts, etc. For winding roads called life, you really can only call your friends those posts. They come along at the right time to tell you where you are and where to go and in all other ways, keep you on the right path. I'm going to tell you about a couple of them. They aren't separately awesome and legendary, one of them once referred jokingly to himself as that, but they are both these things in their own way.
City League softball is one of my favorite things in the UNIVERSE. The world is just not big enough to encompass how much I enjoy playing that game. In the 4 or 5 years that I've played, I've moved from a right fielder to being short stop. Yes, this means that I have figured out how to field. I'm pretty fast, so even when I don't hit the ball well, often times I still can get on base. I love the game, I love to just compete and I love to make people go, "How the heck did he do that"? I played on a church team that gave me the chance to play next to one eccentric guy named Jeff Woodford. Jeff's dad was my high school math teacher that we affectionately called Woody. This tag mades it's way to Jeff as I got to know him a little bit.
Now Jeff played 3rd base. Once in a while we would both end up chasing a foul ball and I would have to call him off or someone would tell me to get the hell out of the way so he could make a play, but we spent a fair amount of time, on plays, in the same vicinity on the field. Joking and laughing, even a few times trying to make the other miss a routine ball. I don't know why I thought of this guy today, other than he made my life just a little bit better. He's truly a great friend and even though I currently live in the middle of no where, he doesn't live too far away. Sisters is a measly hour and a half away.
Friends are never cut from the same mold and one that I don't think was even cut from the same mountain is Daniel Lanning. Now Dan is the guy who is "Awesome and Legendary". Why? Because I said so, that's why!!! And don't you forget it. A few years ago Dan and I got reconnected after not seeing each other for about 8 years. He and I went to high school together, played football together, even had some classes, though he was the year ahead in school. We weren't great friends, but Dan being Dan, we were friends. He's very outgoing, was always headed in the ministry, so he was a walking talking relationship from the moment I met him.
Now, about a year ago, Dan was giving a message, and like all good Christians, I can't remember what it was about, but I do remember after he was introduced he said something to the effect that he hoped some day he would be introduced as "Awesome and Legendary". That sounds like a very arrogant statement to make, but Dan... well, Dan had a way with the expression that made it sound like a very humble offering. He hopes some day that he is mentioned in this fashion, but he wants it to be for the right reasons. It was a truly selfish statement said in a humble fashion that made it totally appropriate. For now and all time, to me, Dan is Awesome and Legendary.
I placed the tag line on this blog because like all my friends, these two are both, awesome and legendary. They are for very different reasons, but they have enriched my life and made it more abundant. They have shown me in their own ways how to be a great friend and forever will I appreciate their contribution to my life.
Roads are windy and no matter where you are going, how far you have gone, or what route you take, there are always signs; miles to destination, railroad crossing, mile posts, etc. For winding roads called life, you really can only call your friends those posts. They come along at the right time to tell you where you are and where to go and in all other ways, keep you on the right path. I'm going to tell you about a couple of them. They aren't separately awesome and legendary, one of them once referred jokingly to himself as that, but they are both these things in their own way.
City League softball is one of my favorite things in the UNIVERSE. The world is just not big enough to encompass how much I enjoy playing that game. In the 4 or 5 years that I've played, I've moved from a right fielder to being short stop. Yes, this means that I have figured out how to field. I'm pretty fast, so even when I don't hit the ball well, often times I still can get on base. I love the game, I love to just compete and I love to make people go, "How the heck did he do that"? I played on a church team that gave me the chance to play next to one eccentric guy named Jeff Woodford. Jeff's dad was my high school math teacher that we affectionately called Woody. This tag mades it's way to Jeff as I got to know him a little bit.
Now Jeff played 3rd base. Once in a while we would both end up chasing a foul ball and I would have to call him off or someone would tell me to get the hell out of the way so he could make a play, but we spent a fair amount of time, on plays, in the same vicinity on the field. Joking and laughing, even a few times trying to make the other miss a routine ball. I don't know why I thought of this guy today, other than he made my life just a little bit better. He's truly a great friend and even though I currently live in the middle of no where, he doesn't live too far away. Sisters is a measly hour and a half away.
Friends are never cut from the same mold and one that I don't think was even cut from the same mountain is Daniel Lanning. Now Dan is the guy who is "Awesome and Legendary". Why? Because I said so, that's why!!! And don't you forget it. A few years ago Dan and I got reconnected after not seeing each other for about 8 years. He and I went to high school together, played football together, even had some classes, though he was the year ahead in school. We weren't great friends, but Dan being Dan, we were friends. He's very outgoing, was always headed in the ministry, so he was a walking talking relationship from the moment I met him.
Now, about a year ago, Dan was giving a message, and like all good Christians, I can't remember what it was about, but I do remember after he was introduced he said something to the effect that he hoped some day he would be introduced as "Awesome and Legendary". That sounds like a very arrogant statement to make, but Dan... well, Dan had a way with the expression that made it sound like a very humble offering. He hopes some day that he is mentioned in this fashion, but he wants it to be for the right reasons. It was a truly selfish statement said in a humble fashion that made it totally appropriate. For now and all time, to me, Dan is Awesome and Legendary.
I placed the tag line on this blog because like all my friends, these two are both, awesome and legendary. They are for very different reasons, but they have enriched my life and made it more abundant. They have shown me in their own ways how to be a great friend and forever will I appreciate their contribution to my life.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Camp Adventures
There are a lot of perks to living at a summer camp. You can do things that you won't normally do in every day society. If you want to have a smore every night, go for it, there is almost always a family having a fire in back yard pits or even chiminea.
Washington Family Ranch, as it's called nowadays, has gone by many other names and has evolved since people first started living here. What was once a ranch, became a cult cloister, is now a Young Life camp. A Young Life camp with a water park. Yes, it's true, I live near a water park, and not just a water park, if I am over there when the park is running, it's FREE.
Last week was sort of a test week for many of the things that happen at camp. The Creekside Activity center was running and there is a full ropes course, indoors, and a basketball court, mini-golf, some other things that are fun to play on, but the new toy that most of us staff were excited to get a turn on was the Go-Kart track. There are 11 carts, one carries two people, and we got a few nights to run these machines to break in tires, the track, and the crew that is going to be running them during the summer.
The Mark 2 guys all got a turn on the carts and I took one of the less coordinated out on the two seater so he could "go fast" as Ricky Bobby would say. He sat in the car and I strapped him in. I crawled around over him trying to get the buckle all done correctly and finally had him strapped down so he wouldn't fall out. Not that I really think you could. I sat next to him and realized there was going to be very little room for my legs once both of us were in. The car is designed for one big person and one little person. Not a Job Coach and one of the Mark 2 guys. It was crowded. I managed to get him situated that he would be out of the way of the gas pedal and I would be able to steer without bumping him. We drove, we bumbed, he yelled, we passed some cars, and The Todd cut us off. It was a great time and he is still talking about it.
Something about living in the desert that you forget about is the wildlife. There are all kinds of birds, a few frogs here and there, I caught on in the pond actually, and reptiles. I have seen more kinds of snakes the past week that I reallky wanted to. I was out for a run on my day off, there is a barn about a half mile from my house and as I was passing it, I wasn't really watching where I was going and I almost stepped on a stick. I nearly fell in the effort to not step directly on it, and as my foot connected with ground, the "stick" coiled itself up, hissed at me, and began to shake it's rattle. Were I more jumpy, I might have wet myself, screamed like a little girl and sprinted off down the road, as it is, I wasn't bit and kept on with my run.
My house is at the end of the Mark 2 property. There isn't much of a porch and I have a gravel path in front of the house. The day after my near collision with the rattler, there was about a 3 foot bull snake sunning in the gravel by my porch. They are not poisonous, but after seeing a snake that could kill me the day before I was taking no chances. I first pissed it off by breaking a shovel... yes, breaking a shovel over it's head. He slithered toward my front door and tried to squirm into one of my boots. Armed with a broken shove, and full shovel, and a plastic chair, I proceeded to corner him and then chop his head off. He bled on my deck, and I didn't want to move the thing because even headless, it was still squirming. I threw it in what counts as my yard, which is really just a bunch of weeds growing in the mud. It stayed there for about 4 days before it started smelling bad enough for me to move it to the brush across the street.
Some of the work that I do takes me into the kitchen on Canyon side of the camp. The kitchen is known as the Iron Kettle or IK for short. Wednesday this week when we went in to help put away the food order, the truck from FSA had just arrived and the order wasn't checked in. I pulled the guys aside to get them out of the way when Robby pointed to the far wall and said, "look a bird". I thought that he was joking until I saw it fly across the back wall. I was a little suprised, but it is a large kitchen and it shouldn't really suprise you to find a wild animal in there from time to time. I found a milk crate and standing on my tip toes, reachind up to the window, I caught that bird with my bare hand. Yes, my bare hand. I took the bird to the door and let it go, but I felt really awesome because about a dozen people saw me do this.
So far, living in camp has been pretty awesome. Every day brings some new adventure, whether it's tracking down a cricket under a pile of mops or catching a mouse that has got into my bathroom and is hiding behind the toilet, there is always something crazy happening. Even better for all the crazy stuff happening to me, there are hundreds of other people that live here that are also having experiences. No shortage to the stories, and therefore, no shortage of life happening.
Washington Family Ranch, as it's called nowadays, has gone by many other names and has evolved since people first started living here. What was once a ranch, became a cult cloister, is now a Young Life camp. A Young Life camp with a water park. Yes, it's true, I live near a water park, and not just a water park, if I am over there when the park is running, it's FREE.
Last week was sort of a test week for many of the things that happen at camp. The Creekside Activity center was running and there is a full ropes course, indoors, and a basketball court, mini-golf, some other things that are fun to play on, but the new toy that most of us staff were excited to get a turn on was the Go-Kart track. There are 11 carts, one carries two people, and we got a few nights to run these machines to break in tires, the track, and the crew that is going to be running them during the summer.
The Mark 2 guys all got a turn on the carts and I took one of the less coordinated out on the two seater so he could "go fast" as Ricky Bobby would say. He sat in the car and I strapped him in. I crawled around over him trying to get the buckle all done correctly and finally had him strapped down so he wouldn't fall out. Not that I really think you could. I sat next to him and realized there was going to be very little room for my legs once both of us were in. The car is designed for one big person and one little person. Not a Job Coach and one of the Mark 2 guys. It was crowded. I managed to get him situated that he would be out of the way of the gas pedal and I would be able to steer without bumping him. We drove, we bumbed, he yelled, we passed some cars, and The Todd cut us off. It was a great time and he is still talking about it.
Something about living in the desert that you forget about is the wildlife. There are all kinds of birds, a few frogs here and there, I caught on in the pond actually, and reptiles. I have seen more kinds of snakes the past week that I reallky wanted to. I was out for a run on my day off, there is a barn about a half mile from my house and as I was passing it, I wasn't really watching where I was going and I almost stepped on a stick. I nearly fell in the effort to not step directly on it, and as my foot connected with ground, the "stick" coiled itself up, hissed at me, and began to shake it's rattle. Were I more jumpy, I might have wet myself, screamed like a little girl and sprinted off down the road, as it is, I wasn't bit and kept on with my run.
My house is at the end of the Mark 2 property. There isn't much of a porch and I have a gravel path in front of the house. The day after my near collision with the rattler, there was about a 3 foot bull snake sunning in the gravel by my porch. They are not poisonous, but after seeing a snake that could kill me the day before I was taking no chances. I first pissed it off by breaking a shovel... yes, breaking a shovel over it's head. He slithered toward my front door and tried to squirm into one of my boots. Armed with a broken shove, and full shovel, and a plastic chair, I proceeded to corner him and then chop his head off. He bled on my deck, and I didn't want to move the thing because even headless, it was still squirming. I threw it in what counts as my yard, which is really just a bunch of weeds growing in the mud. It stayed there for about 4 days before it started smelling bad enough for me to move it to the brush across the street.
Some of the work that I do takes me into the kitchen on Canyon side of the camp. The kitchen is known as the Iron Kettle or IK for short. Wednesday this week when we went in to help put away the food order, the truck from FSA had just arrived and the order wasn't checked in. I pulled the guys aside to get them out of the way when Robby pointed to the far wall and said, "look a bird". I thought that he was joking until I saw it fly across the back wall. I was a little suprised, but it is a large kitchen and it shouldn't really suprise you to find a wild animal in there from time to time. I found a milk crate and standing on my tip toes, reachind up to the window, I caught that bird with my bare hand. Yes, my bare hand. I took the bird to the door and let it go, but I felt really awesome because about a dozen people saw me do this.
So far, living in camp has been pretty awesome. Every day brings some new adventure, whether it's tracking down a cricket under a pile of mops or catching a mouse that has got into my bathroom and is hiding behind the toilet, there is always something crazy happening. Even better for all the crazy stuff happening to me, there are hundreds of other people that live here that are also having experiences. No shortage to the stories, and therefore, no shortage of life happening.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
The day at a glance.
I'm beginning to feel at home again. I don't know if it's the comfort that I feel around people or just the new acceptance that I have for myself. I don't have an awful feeling like I'm supposed to be somewhere else. For the past several years, no matter where I ended up, I felt like I was in the wrong place.
I just had a pretty good capper on a gnarly day. I will get to that, but you need to hear the kind of day that it was, and the suprise feeling that I had at every turn.
Starting at 630, which is obsurd because you don't need an hour and a half to get the guys out the door in the morning, I wandered over to the guys condo and got set up to make breakfast. The "mud room" is the laundry room off the back of the house, and the guys condo is really the only one that the name of the room is not derived from the function. It is actually a laundry room. The doors are locked to keep the guys out of the medicines and other dangerous things, like cleaners and worse chemicals, that we keep stored in there. The menu is also in there. This morning was supposed to be biscuits and gravy, but I managed to cook the last biscuits a few days ago and there was no gravy in sight. I opted to make sausage and scrambled eggs, two things that the guys will always eat.
It was a pretty easy morning. I wasn't too stressed out by the amount of work that we had to do and we managed to be helpful and not too obstructive to the daily routines for the kitchens. Wednesday is the food order for both sides of camp and the guys help put these away. There are 100's of pieces to the orders right now because the camps are coming in this weekend and the kitchens need to be well stocked and ready to go. We finished off the morning and had a good lunch, then started the afternoon with some quick help around the Mark 2 area of camp.
After we left home, things would into a mess. We were slated to work on the club room, getting the carpets all cleaned and shampoo'ed before camp this weekend but one thing after another just seemed to go wrong. First it was the actual equipment that we had in use. One of the vacuums didn't even work properly. It would turn on and make all the usual noise, but the brush didn't spin at all and it was like pushing an angry rolling pin over the floor. I didn't catch the mess up until after one of the guys had "vacuumed" for about an hour. I couldn't help but laugh but I was starting to get mad at a few of the other things going on.
Two of the guys I had set on scraping up gum from ther floor. This wouldn't seem like too difficult of a job, except that I don't think either one of them knew what gum looks like when it gets trampled into carpet. They walked all over the club room and then told me they were done. Within sight of where I was standing (mind that it was on one of the top steps) I could see over a dozen spots of gum. I pointed some of them out to these two and they said they couldn't get them to come up. I took the tool and within a few seconds had two of the spots out of the carpet. They were set back to work.
The housekeeping staff has two of the most... well, they have more than two, but today they only had two fo the most wonderful inventions ever that we went ahead and borrowed, without asking. They have pack vacs. These lovely things instantly transform the casual Mark 2 employee into a Ghostbuster. It's a large tank, with a hose, that makes noise and pulls dirt form the ground... but only if you put the hose to the ground. My guy today was walking around with the hose about a foot from the ground and expecting me not to notice that he was not doing a very good job on the floors. I was getting close to my wits end, but this wasn't the end of my ordeal today.
The last was the sole reason that we were in the Round-Up today. They needed the carpets clean. There is a hunk of machine called Whitacker that is basically two spinning brushes and a sprayer that introduces chemicals to the carpet to have the rubbed in to pick up all the dirt that is in said carpet. This machine seems like it might be fun to operate, but I never really got the chance to. I couldn't get the sprayer to work. I called one guy to check with him about coming to fix it, he was in a meeting. I chatted with guest services to see who else to call, he directed me to housekeeping. The head of housekeeping wasn't sure what the issue is, so finally the housekeepering assistant showed up to save the day. We might as well have been kicking the thing. I wasn't doing anything wrong and it just wasn't working. By the time I finally gave up on the beast, the guy that set me up to clean showed back up and there were then three of us at a complete loss. We gave up trying for the day and I put away all the equipment, broken and working, and with tears in our eyes, crawled back in the car to head home for the day.
I got all of about 20 minutes to myself before I had to go back to the guys house. I was frustrated from the complete lack of work that we got done in the afternoon and I wanted to unwind, but I have to do personal care for one of the guys every day after work. I helped him out as I always do, and then went home. I sat in my chair. And I sat... and sat... and finally there was nothing left to do, I started laughing. It was just an awful day, and I'm so glad that it happened. I wouldn't want to change any of it, because this is the kind of day that I am supposed to be having. I learned all kinds of stuff and managed to keep my temper in check and finished it out in a good mood.
The evening started off making pizza for the guys. They powerred through two large pizzas and when everything was cleaned up, I was off home again to wait for basketball to start. I spent a little while talking with Mark and Mandy... the boss and her husband, and then went off to shoot hoops. I had flashes of brilliance, then when I rememberred that I'm not very good, I started to play like that. I left the games early because I was meeting a buddy for just some conversation and maybe a few beverages. We sat and talked for a while, then he asked where I came from. I'm not sure what possessed me, but I started to share my testimony. I wasn't going to go into detail, but after a bit, I just felt like I was in a safe environment and he would appreciate hearing it. I shared for about 20 minutes and he listened. Some people get bored when they hear stories, but he was captivated and glad to hear what I was sharing. He helped to end a normal day in extrodinary fashion. Now here I sit about to go to bed myself, and I'm happy with how today turned out. Bad and good, it all makes sense to me at the end.
I just had a pretty good capper on a gnarly day. I will get to that, but you need to hear the kind of day that it was, and the suprise feeling that I had at every turn.
Starting at 630, which is obsurd because you don't need an hour and a half to get the guys out the door in the morning, I wandered over to the guys condo and got set up to make breakfast. The "mud room" is the laundry room off the back of the house, and the guys condo is really the only one that the name of the room is not derived from the function. It is actually a laundry room. The doors are locked to keep the guys out of the medicines and other dangerous things, like cleaners and worse chemicals, that we keep stored in there. The menu is also in there. This morning was supposed to be biscuits and gravy, but I managed to cook the last biscuits a few days ago and there was no gravy in sight. I opted to make sausage and scrambled eggs, two things that the guys will always eat.
It was a pretty easy morning. I wasn't too stressed out by the amount of work that we had to do and we managed to be helpful and not too obstructive to the daily routines for the kitchens. Wednesday is the food order for both sides of camp and the guys help put these away. There are 100's of pieces to the orders right now because the camps are coming in this weekend and the kitchens need to be well stocked and ready to go. We finished off the morning and had a good lunch, then started the afternoon with some quick help around the Mark 2 area of camp.
After we left home, things would into a mess. We were slated to work on the club room, getting the carpets all cleaned and shampoo'ed before camp this weekend but one thing after another just seemed to go wrong. First it was the actual equipment that we had in use. One of the vacuums didn't even work properly. It would turn on and make all the usual noise, but the brush didn't spin at all and it was like pushing an angry rolling pin over the floor. I didn't catch the mess up until after one of the guys had "vacuumed" for about an hour. I couldn't help but laugh but I was starting to get mad at a few of the other things going on.
Two of the guys I had set on scraping up gum from ther floor. This wouldn't seem like too difficult of a job, except that I don't think either one of them knew what gum looks like when it gets trampled into carpet. They walked all over the club room and then told me they were done. Within sight of where I was standing (mind that it was on one of the top steps) I could see over a dozen spots of gum. I pointed some of them out to these two and they said they couldn't get them to come up. I took the tool and within a few seconds had two of the spots out of the carpet. They were set back to work.
The housekeeping staff has two of the most... well, they have more than two, but today they only had two fo the most wonderful inventions ever that we went ahead and borrowed, without asking. They have pack vacs. These lovely things instantly transform the casual Mark 2 employee into a Ghostbuster. It's a large tank, with a hose, that makes noise and pulls dirt form the ground... but only if you put the hose to the ground. My guy today was walking around with the hose about a foot from the ground and expecting me not to notice that he was not doing a very good job on the floors. I was getting close to my wits end, but this wasn't the end of my ordeal today.
The last was the sole reason that we were in the Round-Up today. They needed the carpets clean. There is a hunk of machine called Whitacker that is basically two spinning brushes and a sprayer that introduces chemicals to the carpet to have the rubbed in to pick up all the dirt that is in said carpet. This machine seems like it might be fun to operate, but I never really got the chance to. I couldn't get the sprayer to work. I called one guy to check with him about coming to fix it, he was in a meeting. I chatted with guest services to see who else to call, he directed me to housekeeping. The head of housekeeping wasn't sure what the issue is, so finally the housekeepering assistant showed up to save the day. We might as well have been kicking the thing. I wasn't doing anything wrong and it just wasn't working. By the time I finally gave up on the beast, the guy that set me up to clean showed back up and there were then three of us at a complete loss. We gave up trying for the day and I put away all the equipment, broken and working, and with tears in our eyes, crawled back in the car to head home for the day.
I got all of about 20 minutes to myself before I had to go back to the guys house. I was frustrated from the complete lack of work that we got done in the afternoon and I wanted to unwind, but I have to do personal care for one of the guys every day after work. I helped him out as I always do, and then went home. I sat in my chair. And I sat... and sat... and finally there was nothing left to do, I started laughing. It was just an awful day, and I'm so glad that it happened. I wouldn't want to change any of it, because this is the kind of day that I am supposed to be having. I learned all kinds of stuff and managed to keep my temper in check and finished it out in a good mood.
The evening started off making pizza for the guys. They powerred through two large pizzas and when everything was cleaned up, I was off home again to wait for basketball to start. I spent a little while talking with Mark and Mandy... the boss and her husband, and then went off to shoot hoops. I had flashes of brilliance, then when I rememberred that I'm not very good, I started to play like that. I left the games early because I was meeting a buddy for just some conversation and maybe a few beverages. We sat and talked for a while, then he asked where I came from. I'm not sure what possessed me, but I started to share my testimony. I wasn't going to go into detail, but after a bit, I just felt like I was in a safe environment and he would appreciate hearing it. I shared for about 20 minutes and he listened. Some people get bored when they hear stories, but he was captivated and glad to hear what I was sharing. He helped to end a normal day in extrodinary fashion. Now here I sit about to go to bed myself, and I'm happy with how today turned out. Bad and good, it all makes sense to me at the end.
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