Thoughts

Two summers ago, I spent the day alone in San Francisco, most of it at Golden Gate Park. It was supposed to be a preliminary step toward checking off an item on my bucket list (yes, I have a bucket list, even if it is a short one). I've noticed over my life that I'm not a very independent person. I have tended to shy away from taking risks alone, including the risk of being alone in an unfamiliar place. It awed me to learn that people around my age were traveling alone to foreign countries, or even cities here in the U.S. I couldn't put myself in that place because I didn't believe I could trust my own judgment enough to be safe in such circumstances. In short, I've been afraid to venture out on my own. This leads to what I was able to experience last week. I traveled to New York City on Monday, and spent Tuesday and Wednesday there before meeting my aunt and uncle a little farther north outside the city. I was originally supposed to travel to New York with my bro

The bank was nearly empty of customers, except for another man and myself. I had just entered and stepped into line behind the other customer when the teller said she could help him at her window. He said something like, "I'll wait for the next teller. I don't want to do business with you." I can't say why the man responded this way. The woman seemed unphased by the man's words, though, which told me she may have had dealings with him before. She called me to the window, and as she was processing my request, she glanced once toward the man, who was now with another teller. I felt the need to say something to her at that point, so at the end, I managed to say, "Don't let people's words discourage you." She said thank you, but I left with the impression that she had a deeper need that I wasn't able to fill. It was a moment that you don't see often in public, when you see a person-- whether a stranger or someone you know-- as a human

When I was a kid, I played with Matchbox cars. Among them was the type with doors that would flip over and display crash damage when you slammed the car against something. The great apart of this mechanism was that it allowed you to reverse a destructive event: once the damage was done, you could erase it by flipping the damaged door so that it was in perfect condition again. Pretty soon, though, you found that the door wouldn't return to its pristine state any longer. It had taken so many hits that the return mechanism failed. The damage, so to speak, was done. Some of us still played with it, but we could never find the same value in that little car once the most cherished aspect of its existence no longer functioned. In our hearts, we may have even begun to shun that little car, avoiding it for newer, or simply normal-looking, cars. Now, some of you may be smirking right now, predicting in your minds that I'm attempting to draw a pithy, self-satisfying anal

Tonight's medical assistant class went really well. We were required to take full vital signs, plus height and weight; and whereas before, I had felt awkward as I took pulse, blood pressure, and temperature, I felt much closer to comfortable this time. In short, I'm getting there, and I'm starting to enjoy the class's practical aspects much more than before. Of course, I'm still making mistakes. I inadvertently told my "patient" that he was healthy, but you're not allowed to diagnose a patient in any way. That was a no-no, but I'm learning. I'm also interested in the science behind the medicine. There's a lot, even for a medical assistant, but it's been intriguing to explore this discipline. More to come.

The crowd grew silent as I was introduced to take the podium. The emcee made an off-hand comment about my skin color, but that didn't phase me. I was too focused on what I knew was my clear purpose. I stepped upon that pedestal, that holy hill of mine, surrounded on all sides by onlookers eager to gauge my mettle. Some people prepare their entire lives for events like this one, but the task was handed to me just earlier that day. Still, I made the most of it. I hesitated, on purpose, before I took my last breath and began. This was my calling. This was my life. This was the day I would reign victorious in a camp belly flop contest. It started earlier when I was asked to represent the adult counselor for my team's set of cabins. I was excited at the prospect, and agreed. I had a special move that I performed on a large trampoline that my parents had bought my brother and I, and I thought I could use it here, as well. When the entire camp surrounded that pool, however, and th

Walking away from a cloud of dust and an overturned go-cart, likely with spinning wheels, I dropped my helmet on the soft, hot dirt. My eyes were already dry with dust, and I could taste earth in my mouth. Why I decided to accelerate through unpredictably bumpy field, I can't say, but I do know that my decision would cost me. A high school friend had invited me to join his family and a few family friends to go-cart on the outskirts of a nearby town. The setting was perfect: a huge and isolated dirt track surrounding grassy field, splashed by sunshine on a colorful summer morning. It grew steadily hotter when my second chance came to race my friend. When it started, nothing went right. I neglected to wear sunglasses, so that the dust filled my eyes and impaired my sight; and though I took measured breaths, I could nonetheless taste it, as well. You can imagine, then, that it was easy for me to grow impatient. My friend was clear on the opposite side of the track by this time. Pe

I remember leaving class one day in college, when a young adult was standing on top of a wooden barrier, yelling to everyone that they were going to hell if they didn't repent. It wasn't as though they were wrong, according to Scripture, but the way they practiced evangelism shocked me. I thought that this kind of preaching was a practice relegated to the past. As a Christian, I was very aware of how sensitive the public was (and is) to condemnation and judgment by evangelical Christians, so this wasn't something I was going to ignore. I found myself in good company. When I approached, another student was already trying to shout over the message of this fire-and-brimstone preacher. He seemed to let her speak, but continued his message, as well. I wanted, more than most things in my life, to raise my voice and shout that God is a God of mercy just as much as he is a God of justice. At the time, I was too timid and afraid. I stayed around long enough to see the growing cr

Sunday We need each other. *Context: A small group of friends spends the day together, and one of them feels refreshed after having done so. Monday We have more influence over other people's days (and even lives) than we are sometimes willing to admit. *Context: A student cries in a meeting after being reprimanded by all six of his teachers, in the same room, for consistently annoying others. Tuesday Investing in others can be very fulfilling. *Context: Students make much more of a teacher's birthday than he ever thought they would. Wednesday Medicine-- even in the assistant role-- is a field with very visible responsibility. *Context: A student takes his first set of complete vital signs, and realizes that he is dealing with others' lives. Thursday We may not be able to control others' behavior, but we can move mountains with our response to it. *Context: Someone says something unkind about a teacher in the presence of another teacher, and the listeni