Not What I Expected

When I was a kid, Christmas was a problem for me. I mean, it wasn’t just Christmas, but Christmas illustrates the problem.

I was one of those kids: I would build it up so much in my mind that when the actual day arrived, there was no way it could compete with the fantasy I had created. The food was good, but not quite as good as I had anticipated. The presents were great, but they never really satisfied like I thought they would. And if there was no snow, well, there you go. There’s nothing worse than a green Christmas.

In my own heart, this has been a thing I’ve had to deal with my whole life. I have a very good imagination. I can “envision” things. I can construct complex ideals in intricate ways within my heart. You might say I have big dreams. And I am surrounded by the phantoms of life, screaming with their common sense voices, “Wake up!”

Another example: One of the things that has kept me from recording music over the years is the fact that I have tried it and the results were always much less satisfying than the version I could hear in my head. I have now reached a point where I may be able to get something done right - we are at least trying - but I kind of worry about it in a way.

And it’s not just the music. I feel this way about a lot of things. The reality falls way short of the vision.

But it’s also true that, in some ways, life is much better than I ever expected. I never expected marriage to be such a great thing, and it’s the best thing that ever happened to me, apart from the work of God in my life. And I never had a single clue about what a joy being a dad would be. But it is revolutionary to the heart, soul and mind. I never thought about working in the Church for a living, not seriously. But that’s where I am and it is an honor every day.

In the end, I realize that my expectations are not the stuff of life. They can guide some of my decisions, but reality has a taste of mystery to it that I have had to learn to embrace because I can’t figure it out and I’m honestly getting tired of trying. The world inside my head does not define the world on the outside. And, while I don’t need to abandon my dreams, I do need to be sure I have a good and meaningful connection with what is real.

I can imagine a great Christmas, or a great whatever.

But simply enjoying the one I have can be a much better thing sometimes.


Peace to you.
© LW Publishing 2010

Playing With Words

I love playing with words, with language, and for some reason I find it to be very funny. Usually more funny than the people around me do. I’m sure this post will be another example of that. But there is an irony to how words are so important and yet aren’t. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent so much time studying words and language, I don’t really know, but this stuff even gets into my dreams sometimes.

One night I dreamt I was in ancient Rome. I was standing on some huge portico with miles of giant steps leading up to it, just finding myself there for some unknown reason, hearing people talking all around me. In my dream I was looking for someone or something, I don’t really know what. Then I saw, a short distance away, wearing a toga and everything, my friend Justin Quick. And Quick is a good name for him. He’s quick to care. Quick to help. Quick to show kindness. He’s great. But I have no idea why he was in my dream. So I called out to him and, no kidding, without a single thought, my dream self shouted out, “Justinian Quickenus! Justinian Quickenus!” He turned to me and started walking towards me and that’s when I woke up. Laughing. I literally made myself laugh in my sleep with my insane dream.

I told Justin about this dream. I think it just confirmed my weirdness. What can one think about such dreams?

But it doesn’t stop with the dreams. I have a phrase I use for my daughters. They are “Beauteous Maximus.” Sometimes they are “Smucha Muchas” or “Shweety Hearts.” Our house is “The Humble Abode.” I do things that aren’t very “pastorly,” and the lifestyle my wife and I live with three kids and too much going on is “coitus interruptus.”

Go ahead. Laugh at me if you want. I can take it.

But seriously. Don’t you find words to be funny? And some words are just weird. The word “the” for instance. The? Who came up with that? Why is a knife called a nyf? Back in the day it was a knyf, but we didn’t like the k in there, so we just dumped it. And I’m sure someone knows why, but if we knew it wouldn’t be as funny.

Or how about how doctors put the suffix -itis on things to make you feel like they’ve really told you something? Laryngitis, Appendicitis, Sinusitis, etc. etc. The suffix -itis simply means “irritating” or “irritated.” Isn’t that helpful? How about “Eyebrowitis” or “Mykiditis?”

This is all just the tip of the iceberg. No wonder communication is so hard. I just thank God for words like love and forgiveness. Without them this world would be all nonsense.




Peace to you.


© LW Publishing 2010