Pimples

As a teenager I didn’t have to deal with very much acne. Still, every pimple left me longing for the day that I’d be old enough that I wouldn’t get them anymore.

I’m 47 now. Isn’t that old enough?

Why did the adults in my adolescent life lie to me? Why did they say that the zits would all be over soon enough, and I’d long for the days when my problems were that simple? (Well, I suppose they were half right!) Why didn’t they tell me, back then, that there was still a good chance I’d always be dealing with blemishes on my back, or on my rear end? Those, at least, are usually hidden by my clothes. How about the ones out in the open, alongside my nose, visible on my chin through my beard, or on my balding pate?

Oh, wait. Maybe they didn’t tell me because they didn’t have them. Does everyone, or is it just me? Are we each allotted a fixed number of pimples for our lifetime, and I didn’t get nearly enough as a kid, so I have to put up with them as long as I draw breath?

Nowadays (see, I’m old enough to say "nowadays" now, and it sounds just as hokey as when my grandparents used to say it; shouldn’t I be old enough that I don’t get pimples anymore??), the medical advice is to leave them alone, don’t pop them, because it increases the risk of them becoming infected.

Right.

As if I could leave that swollen, slightly painful, white-headed pustule alone if my life depended on it! That would be impossible even without still hearing my dear, late mother’s voice ringing in my memory’s ear, telling me I "really ought to go pop that thing!" I don’t think she ever used the adjective "disgusting," but I always heard her imply it nonetheless, and still do now.

See, it isn’t enough I still get zits. I have to obsess – not to be confused with abscess – over them, too. Gee, thanks Mom!

Abundant blessings!

I think I've learned to just appreciate times such as these when they come, rather than a) making them some sort of unachievable, obsessive end in themselves, or b) destroying them through an unconscious belief that I don't deserve them. A lot of folks end up applying either or both of these ineffective approaches to happiness in their lives; I know I've applied both in the past. It's nice to be able to simply appreciate such blessings as:

- to be able to look at the gradually decreasing yard debris where I successfully felled a mostly dead maple tree in my front yard on Saturday, without dropping it on our house or the street or myself, or killing or maiming myself with the biggest chain saw (by far!) that I've ever used; the whole time I was hearing the lessons my stepfather shared three decades ago, mainly "Keep the chain out of the dirt!"

- to be able to enjoy a truly splendid Father's Day, including nice phone calls from each of our daughters

- to enjoy both the regular and the special cycling outings with our riding group

- to spend pleasant evenings with a wonderful group of friends

- to participate in and contribute to our parish through Mass, music ministry, small faith-sharing groups, festival, etc.

- to continue to be blessed within the prayer group we helped get started 20 years ago, and to see the Holy Spirit still moving in our lives in powerful ways, always helping us to grow and be transformed

- to have such close friends that I can discuss even the most difficult things life offers without fear of losing their friendship, and to know how to couch those discussions even when a topic holds the potential to hurt them deeply but still must be addressed

- to see our prayers begin to be answered for our daughter and her estranged husband, when many might have given up hope for them at the point of the divorce, and yet to recognize that the need for continued prayer for them is still urgent, for they have all their original issues to overcome plus the pain of their more recent decisions

- to be able to speak words of comfort to a small, highly upset 22-month-old granddaughter as she received a half-dozen stitches in the horizontal split she opened between her upper lip and nose because she wasn't quite big enough to follow her four-year-old cousin's leap from the coffee table to the sofa; to know how much worse it could have been had the table's glass top broken under them instead; to show loving yet firm correction rather than angry recrimination to the older grandchild

- to be in better shape at 47 than I've ever been before

- to know that no blessing, and no challenge, serves any other purpose than to help us collectively to know God's love more deeply, and to more deeply love God in return.

Longing for simplicity

I used to believe that being complex or enigmatic was admirable. I was drawn to those who seemed to possess what I thought of as a captivating depth, layers of intrigue to discover. Conversely, I disdained simplicity or transparency as uninteresting, or even boring. In retrospect, I'd have to say that I thought of simple people as not being worth much of my attention.

How egotistical I was.

I still struggle against those prejudices, and find that I've long since taken on these traits that I so vainly valued, in ways of which I am certain I will never be free. I now treasure in others and long to find within myself those characteristics which I formerly scorned.

Perceptual weirdness

The oddest thing is going on in my brain.

Perhaps it’s from too much computer time, which would be strange, because I spend nearly all day on the computer nearly every work day. Maybe it’s a cumulative effect. At any rate, my brain feels as if my desk and computer screen are orthogonal to how they should be.

It’s hard to explain, and I’m sure weird to read, but here’s as close as I think I can get to describing what it feels like: it’s as if I’ve been holding my head over at a 90° angle for so long that my brain has gotten used to it and is automatically interpreting everything I see as being upright. Now, I know that such a phenomenon occurs after a couple of days when experimental subjects are provided with inverting glasses to look through for all their waking hours. But I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anything like that happening with a 90° visual translation - if such a thing is even possible or practical.

Anyway, it’s a rather unusual feeling. Perhaps it’s just a weird effect of the astigmatism which a) I spend much of the day not correcting because I don’t typically wear my glasses when I’m doing computer work and b) I haven’t had checked in entirely too long. Or maybe I’m just a little lightheaded from not being caught up yet from fasting for my physical this morning (but my doc was really impressed with my resting heart rate. Cool!)

Or since I’m feeling weird, maybe it’s just the same thing that I tell my wife is going on with her when she says she’s feeling dizzy:

improved perception

Contented **sigh**

Wow. Every last little detail around the house didn't get taken care of, but that was ok. Everybody we expected didn't come (including one who absolutely should have come, though we really didn't expect her to), but that was ok. A couple folks were bent out of shape by the kids having such an unabashedly good time, but that was ok. We spent too much money, but that was ok.

We threw a wedding (well, technically a convalidation ceremony) on Saturday for our youngest and her husband. Before that, since we would have a bunch of extra family staying at the house, there were numerous projects that we wanted to take care of, including repairing and painting ceilings, painting the guest room, stripping off old wallpaper remnants, reorganizing the kitchen, general cleaning up, and that was before the mrs. pulled up the carpet and underlying linoleum in the entry, adding a porch and entry tiling project to my already full agenda of the past several weeks. We didn't finish all the details (well, mainly two trim pieces in the entry), but got a ton of things done. Then there was all the usual stuff associated with a wedding, which we probably could have gotten away with not doing all-out, but it we really wanted to convey how important we thought it was.

Everyone seemed to have a good time. There were several unique and wonderful elements that set the ceremony and the reception apart from the ordinary. Oldest daughter has probably burned her bridges with youngest, and God only knows why she didn't attend, but at least she sent her kids, and we had a fine time with them.

Now to avoid a post-event letdown. Oh, and get back on my bike!

TOSRV 2007

When I took up cycling a little over 4 years ago, I had no idea I would enjoy it to this degree, let alone that I would become as insane as the guys who inspired me to start. Nonetheless, last weekend I completed my fourth Tour of the Scioto River Valley, a 2-day, 200-mile ride between Columbus and Portsmouth, Ohio.

This year we had 14 riders start, on 3 tandems and 8 singles. One of the tandems was a pair of college freshmen who had ridden it with us before. This year they had about 16 miles of training between them, so completing half of the ride was a pretty impressive accomplishment for them. One of the singles was a coworker and friend who managed to complete his first century on Saturday, then ran into a bit of tire trouble early on Sunday which gave him adequate reason to bail out, especially given his concern that he would otherwise be holding up the group. Since we had a support driver meeting us in Portsmouth on Saturday and then at the first two rest stops on Sunday, the three of them had means of getting home, each with a sense of having accomplished much, if not all they might have set out to do.

Weather on this ride is generally hit or miss. This year it was a home run. Gorgeous both days, and if it was a little chilly to start on Sunday, we were all prepared for it. Tailwind all the way down on Saturday, though that was a challenging headwind - stronger than forecast - on the way back on Sunday. Effective group riding on the way back on Sunday helped, and though I was perhaps a bit of weak link for a bit, I recovered well for the final push coming in.
Overall, my average speed for the two days was higher than for any past century, and higher than all but one of my training rides this year.

Now if we can just get through this busy month with a few more riding opportunities so as not to lose the progress I've made.

The forgiveness challenge

For years now it has been my belief, if never fully verbalized, that we don't truly understand forgiveness and grace until two things happen in our lives:

• We are hurt by someone we love deeply, even seemingly unforgivably, and truly forgive them for it
• We hurt someone deeply, even seemingly unforgivably, and receive forgiveness which we know we don't deserve
  

For me, the second was the real eye-opener. Being forgiven by others when it was otherwise impossible to forgive myself taught me what a gift true forgiveness really is. Most of us go through our lives mistaking true forgiveness for cost-benefit analysis. "You've hurt me," or "I've hurt you," and then we mentally go on, "but the overall balance of our relationship remains fairly even," or "the benefit of reconciling is greater than the cost of severing our relationship." Maybe that's largely true in our relationships with others, but it can never be so in our relationship with God. I don't think most of us understand true forgiveness until our need of forgiveness from others has been extensive.

The giving and receiving of forgiveness can get complicated by a few things. In the latter case, there is a difference between someone offering us forgiveness and us receiving it. Many of us never truly receive the love, forgiveness and reconciliation offered us. We often choose isolation over any real acknowledgement of our hurtful actions, which is a prerequisite to our acceptance of forgiveness. This probably could bear some expansion, but this will have to suffice for now.

On the other hand, forgiving someone else doesn't necessarily mean we should put ourselves in harm's way again, especially if they've taken no concrete steps toward fixing whatever it was in themselves that led them to hurt us.

Also, in my experience, at least, forgiveness is a process, not usually an instantaneous event. When I've been deeply hurt by someone, forgiving them doesn't mean I don't feel hurt or angry, at least right away. It does, however, mean that I never stop wanting the best for them. Not in some superficial way, rather I continue to desire for them a deep, abundant life in God. And over time, those feelings of betrayal and anger should diminish if I refuse to feed them by obsessively hanging onto them.

Neither does forgiving another mean they won't have to face the consequences of their actions. In extreme cases, there may be legal actions that really need to be taken; if so, I shouldn't seek to maximize them for the sake of retribution.

Another tough complication can arise when we don't learn about the hurt we've received until it is impossible to express forgiveness. In this case, the only thing we may be able to do is the underlying, heretofore unspoken requirement for receiving and giving forgiveness in other circumstances: we can pray for healing for the other.

I find myself in this boat for the present. I'm angry and hurt. It is literally impossible to reach out in any tangible way to the friend who utterly betrayed me by deeply hurting someone I love. Yet I have been forgiven much, and my desire is for this other to be forgiven, too. So I offer my prayer, asking God to do what I cannot: heal the one who has been wounded, heal me from my pain, heal the one who has hurt us so.