Pay Attention

Pay attention. Pay attention. Man who is weary, man who is weak. Pay attention. Allow me to carry this burden. Give me your tears that hurt more each day they remain uncried. Pay attention. This morning, the sun rose with rain, but even a million falling, sparkling jewels did not speak to you. Pay attention.

Today I went to the doctor, but, more importantly, yesterday I watched Tuesdays with Morrie. Morrie is a man dieing of Lou Gehrig's disease. He loves life, and is full of aphorisms such as "You learn how to live once you learn how to die," "We must love-or die," "Forgive. Forgive all before it's too late." He absolutely loved life. Death is merely a tool to learn, an experience which should only increase my zeal for life and intensify my love. So while my health is a nonstop guessing game, I am not worried. Sure the quacks may have to move to more invasive procedures, sure today he used the word "cancer." But I am not worried. Because even in those times when I don't pay attention to Him, even then-perhaps especially then-I cling to the promise that He is in total control and cares about me so much.

I have a friend named Collin, and today I realized how much I appreciate him. Collin lives just down the hall, to the right and then to the left again. He's funny, wacky, usually happy and today he brought me a burger from Red Robin. Collin makes me laugh, attacks me for my Wheat Thins, and spends evenings talking with me. He sings Disney songs on roadtrips, is a master dancer, and a horserider. He is obnoxious. He parties. He is blunt. He is loud. Just when I think that the day is over and I can settle down, he appears and turns it all upside down. So thank you, Collin. And his name isn't Collin, it's Robert.

On a final note, today is election day. Looks like Bush might win. My personal feeling on this parallels Galen's: Merry Christmas.