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


A Lot of Regret

This next statement will shock some and bring a vindictive thought to others, but I'll say it anyway: I do indeed regret not going to this year's Spring Banquet. Why? My buddy from Arizona, that's why.

A little under four years ago, he was a skinny kid with a funky walk and a disproportionate love for Star Wars. What's changed? Beyond those things, much. I remember my first impressions of him: definitely socially awkward, and definitely not someone I'd ever understand or get close to.

How can I say this? Hmmm. I was wrong, incredibly wrong. Does that work? I think so.

I still see in my mind the early stages of that blooming friendship. To be honest, he probably remembers it better than I. We'd talk about geeky, nerdy sorts of things, everything from Marvel comics to the Star Wars Expanded Universe. I think our conversations eventually went on toward more important matters, things such as fashion, the works of Tolkien, and God. Oh, and girls. Goshdarnit, lots of conversations about girls.

I remember getting phone calls from Arizona in the summers. He'd call, telling me how tough life was, telling me things I didn't really know how to handle. I think if he'd been there next to me instead of a couple thousand miles away, my shoulder would've had his head on it for a few hours. I'd listen, and point him again and again, in my own feeble way, toward Jesus.

I now smile at the ways he grew to be our younger brother, the younger brother he never could be at home. He'd hang out with me, Mike, Scott, Chriyus, and Jim, looking up to us like we were actually something special. Well, those guys were and are; I'm just happy to know them, too. We teased him, tortured him, and generally worked mightily for his sanctification, all the while never suspecting our little bro had so much potential.

I can recall the manners in which I've seen him change his thinking, growing in his affection for Christ. It's an amazing process to watch a young man grow in that manner, especially when you get to be a part of it. To my discredit, I think it's been too easy for me to take that growth for granted, or to lose my sense of awe at God's grace in his life. Silly me.

It's now four years later, and I wonder where the time has gone. He's still skinny, still walks funky, and still love Star Wars way too much. But you know what? There's a lot more to him than just that. My memory banks have stored within them recollections of late nights in his room, days of guts and glory on the frisbee field, ritualistic ping pong sessions in the rec center, short (yet pungent) trips to the bank, longer trips (like Nashville), and too many other moments to list. One thing that's missing? What his face looked like on Friday night. I really wish I'd been there for that.

I'm proud of you, Pablo :)

posted by Bolo | 2:17 AM
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