Smeagol is Free!
A hermitudinal view of...stuff...


Little Boys

There's about ten billion thoughts running through my mind after this past weekend. Where to start? Whatever comes to mind first, I suppose.

For the first time in a really long time, I took a walk last night. When I was back at home, one of my favorite things to do was to just go...Pu'unui Park, Aiea Loop Trail, Kaka'ako Park, the wall at Kewalo's, Blaisdell Park, the graveyard below Natsunoya Tea House (near the old Skyline house), and even Malaekahana, when I could get out there...all those spots were well known to me during times when I needed to get away and be with God. But I've not done that lately. Part of it is, it's not part of my routine here. Part of it is, I just haven't done it. Wow...I didn't see how badly I needed it. As I walked through the neighborhood last night, there was a sense of rightness within my soul, a peace I hadn't felt in a while. As I spoke to the Lord and poured out my heart, I realized what made walking with Him like that so right: it was to be with Him...simple as that.

Yes, I know, it sounds absurdly simple. But really, when I think about it, I must admit that I can't say the same of any other desire that I satiate throughout the day. To be with God? To sit, to wait on Him? To listen to and speak to Him, and Him alone? Hardly. I'll read my bible to learn and be a good bible college student. Pray? I'll do it to check it off my list, more often than not. Confess to others my sins? Ditto. What about service? Oh, to look good and appear righteous...duh. But to take a walk, when no one else is looking? To talk to the Lord, in the dark of the night, when no one else is looking? There's something...honest about it. I can't fake that; at least, I find that it's a time when I'm less prone to be fake, when it's like I'm staring God in the face a little more than usual. Yeah...that's real.

What makes you real with God?

Blessings. The more and more I think about them, the more and more I realize I don't understand them. God's blessings upon my life are many...and like Him, they're sometimes hard to recognize. I struggle with so many things, and it's easy for me to forget God's blessings in the midst of the struggles. They're there, and if I'd only stop and open my eyes, I might see them better.

Keith O'Neal. Scott's little brother just turned six years old. Scott told us (there were a least 60 of us sitting on Brooke's tarpaulin [new word for the day...I just rememberd what "tarp" was short for...] from Boyce and beyond) not to use the "F-word" (fireworks) since Keith knew what that word meant, and the fireworks show for Thunder was a surprise for Keith. Instead, we were to use the word "pyrotechnics," which the little guy did not know. At 9:30 pm EST, when the first shots went off from the 2nd Street Bridge, Keith's jaw dropped open a good four inches, and stayed that way for the better part of the first minute of the show. I think watching Keith watch Thunder was enough of a treat for me. I kept thinking to myself, "I wish Kason could see this...he would love it."

Speaking of Kason, Mom told me that he was really naughty when she watched him last week. When she sent him to timeout, he would sit there and cry, going "I'm sorry Jesus...I'm sorry Jesus...I'm sorry Jesus." Unfortunately, he would continually misbehave, even after telling her that he would not repeat his naughty doings. At one point, when in the midst of getting scolded he pointed to a picture of me and said, "that's Uncle Johnny," Mom told him, "yes, and would you like me to call him and tell him how naughty you are?" Kason responded by saying, "go...he's not here anyway."

I had the image of a tiny three and a half year old body being launched off of my hand and flying all the way across my Mom's living room firmly imprinted upon my mind at that point.

Still, the little dude redeemed himself. After a long day of repeated disobedience, he was talking to my Mom, and he seemed genuinely sorry. How did she know this? Well, she asked him what he would tell his Mommy when she (my sister Mary) asked him if he was a good boy, since Mary was going to be picking him up soon. Kason could only look down for a while...then, slowly, very, very, slowly, he said, "I have to tell the truth."

Wow. Talk about conviction.

posted by Bolo | 6:30 PM
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