Tuesday, March 23, 2004
It's Hard for Me to Say I'm Sorry
George Grantis very, very right about repentance .
Monday, March 22, 2004
Two Roads Diverged in a Wood
His eyes drifted across the table and settled on her blurry face. She was staring off into space, arms crossed, absent-mindedly tapping her well-groomed fingernail against her teeth. He was tired. He should be wearing his glasses, but his face felt like it was made of lead. The weariness of last week's double shifts pulled at his body, telling him to sleep. he shook himself mentally, forcing his thoughts into focus. She was leaving in the morning, and it would be months before they would have another meeting like this.
"So what do you think?" The question was a general one. He didn' t want to prejudice her answer.
She turned her face towards his. Her eyes stopped their journey at his chin. She was staring at his mouth like it was an abyss that housed some fearsome monster.
"Do you like where you are?" Her inquiry was a week attempt to shield her thoughts while she carefully crafted a diplomatic answer. In her eyes, however, the disappointment was clear. The windows to the soul, Daniel thought. She'd never really been able to hide from him. It was like her to keep things bottled up inside. He knew it wasn't in him to follow her example.
"It's the best thing that's ever happened to me," he replied. "I'm getting more out of it than I ever thought I would. I'm learning. I'm growing. I'm finally understanding what is important. and why." He leaned forward. "I'd be short-circuiting my potential if I was doing anything else."
"I figured you would say that." Her face tightened. He could see the grief hovering just below the surface. She didn't understand. She couldn't see the benefits. The fulfillment. There was nothing in her countenance but disagreement and despair.
"What is it you don't agree with?" He knew most of the answers. Their philosophical differences were huge. The fundamental premises that governed their lives were separated by a vast chasm devoid of bridges. But he asked the question for her benefit, to help her know that he wanted to understand. To help her know that the conversation would be worth the hard feelings.
"I don't think I can talk about it" The flesh below her lower lip trembled slightly. "You know how I feel, and I don't want to talk about it. I will just end up getting upset, and I don't want to ruin the day." Her voice, soft with sorrow, buffeted his emotions. It had been a good day. A sunny walk in the park. Grass so green you thought you were in heaven. A clear sky. No humidity. A picnic by the lake. Pleasant conversation and memories of the past that made his heart hurt with joy at their recollection. The dinner under the stars was particularly nice, with good food, good wine, and more conversation that floated in the air like expensive perfume. She is right, his heart told him, it would just ruin the day.
She was looking over his shoulder now, staring at some unseen phantom on the wall. The sadness bottled up in her face made her look like a stranger. Something prophetic about the image pulled anxiety up from some dark place inside him and wrapped its fingers around his heart. Did he really never understand her? Was she not the confidante he'd thought she was? He vainly trace the path of his memory to find the place where the road separated, where they had parted company without knowing it.
"So what do you think?" The question was a general one. He didn' t want to prejudice her answer.
She turned her face towards his. Her eyes stopped their journey at his chin. She was staring at his mouth like it was an abyss that housed some fearsome monster.
"Do you like where you are?" Her inquiry was a week attempt to shield her thoughts while she carefully crafted a diplomatic answer. In her eyes, however, the disappointment was clear. The windows to the soul, Daniel thought. She'd never really been able to hide from him. It was like her to keep things bottled up inside. He knew it wasn't in him to follow her example.
"It's the best thing that's ever happened to me," he replied. "I'm getting more out of it than I ever thought I would. I'm learning. I'm growing. I'm finally understanding what is important. and why." He leaned forward. "I'd be short-circuiting my potential if I was doing anything else."
"I figured you would say that." Her face tightened. He could see the grief hovering just below the surface. She didn't understand. She couldn't see the benefits. The fulfillment. There was nothing in her countenance but disagreement and despair.
"What is it you don't agree with?" He knew most of the answers. Their philosophical differences were huge. The fundamental premises that governed their lives were separated by a vast chasm devoid of bridges. But he asked the question for her benefit, to help her know that he wanted to understand. To help her know that the conversation would be worth the hard feelings.
"I don't think I can talk about it" The flesh below her lower lip trembled slightly. "You know how I feel, and I don't want to talk about it. I will just end up getting upset, and I don't want to ruin the day." Her voice, soft with sorrow, buffeted his emotions. It had been a good day. A sunny walk in the park. Grass so green you thought you were in heaven. A clear sky. No humidity. A picnic by the lake. Pleasant conversation and memories of the past that made his heart hurt with joy at their recollection. The dinner under the stars was particularly nice, with good food, good wine, and more conversation that floated in the air like expensive perfume. She is right, his heart told him, it would just ruin the day.
She was looking over his shoulder now, staring at some unseen phantom on the wall. The sadness bottled up in her face made her look like a stranger. Something prophetic about the image pulled anxiety up from some dark place inside him and wrapped its fingers around his heart. Did he really never understand her? Was she not the confidante he'd thought she was? He vainly trace the path of his memory to find the place where the road separated, where they had parted company without knowing it.
Saturday, March 13, 2004
I Pledge Allegiance to the Flag ...
You're Ireland!Mystical and rain-soaked, you remain mysterious to many people, and this makes you intriguing. You also like a good night at the pub, though many are just as worried that you will blow up the pub as drink your beverage of choice. You're good with words, remarkably lucky, and know and enjoy at least fifteen ways of eating a potato. You really don't like snakes.
Take the Country Quiz at the Blue Pyramid
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
Singing on a Star - AccuRadio Style
Of all the streaming music web sites I've come across, AccuRadio.com takes the cake. I am particularly fond of their Swingin' Pop Standards, A Flock of Eighties, Jazz and Celtic channels. I like the fact that you can choose a sub-channel, which allows you to control the content to a great degree. For example, if you like classic swing, but you want to avoid hearing Rod Stewart, kd lang, or other modern voices, you can choose a "Rat Pack" channel, which keeps you listening to Frank, Sammy, Ella, Tony and Dean with few exceptions. They are also pop-up free. What a glorious world we live in.
