Home From Work And Waiting For The House To Get Warm

As I begin writing this it is Thursday evening and I am waiting for the wood stove fire to catch on and warm the house after not having a fire all day. Thursday is Sandi’s day to teach art and the fire that I start in the morning is but a memory by the time I get home in the evening.

By this time of year, the woodpile is looking a little thin and I begin to wonder whether we will make it through the cold season on what little wood is left. There are a few big logs left from last year that I never cut up into stove length—but who wants to go through all that. I have a new chain for my saw that is still in the package—and some chain oil—but the where-with-all is missing.

Since I began writting , I have checked the fire and eaten dinner. I told my wife, who called twice for dinner and I didn’t hear her, that I was updating my blog. Sounds like some kind of ailment.

I told her that I was writting about stuff and she said that she was looking forward to reading about my spiritual journey. I answered her with a…”everything is spiritual” kind of answer. This is both true and not true at the same time.

My writtings are not necessarily what you would call being overtly spiritual or Christian. But they are a description of part of the process of my life which—truth be known—is hidden in Christ.

There is the past, the present and the future. My mind is filled up with what I have lived and experienced. I don’t really know how full the hard drive of my mind is—but sometimes some of that stuff wants out.

Today is sometimes beyond my understanding—it is off the charts—and it is a wonder that I make it to the other side.

Like I have said before—some of what I feel comes out to make room for what is happening and some of it is released for what is to come.  Thoughts build up and want expression—to bad they don’t become a TV show and make us all a lot of money.

Sandi is a “…lets make a list and check things off as we go” kind of person. I am a “…lets make a pile and look at it for a time while I decide what to do with it” kind. Not incompatible—but challenged—in a good sort of way. She loves me because of and in spite of my flaws—and for me—it is the very same thing towards her. We are what we are—you can’t take one part and love that and somehow ignore the other parts of a person’s personality.

It’s a package deal. And that is really who we are—not the pluses entirely or the minuses—but a collection of both. We have matured into who we are as a mix of wheat and tares—to somewhat force a bible analogy. We are the sum of the parts as a mathematician would put it. An energy force that has negative and positive charges—all whirling around the atomic structure of who we are—who we exist as this very moment.

Culture has chosen to objectifly us and separate us from our source—to make it seem that we are random acts of inventon or better yet—molecular structures that have evolved into rational beings.

I am still amazed that I haven’t arrived yet—I thought that was the whole point of life—to get to where we are headed/to where we are going. Now I learn that it is the “journey” that is the most important focus. That we never really arrive or are arriving moment by moment—in a continuing cycle—that never ends. Death is a process that changes where we live or the body that we inhabit—but life goes on and on and on. For some, after death, we will inhabit a place called heaven for all enternity—that’s a long time. For others, who are not part of the Christ redeemed, they will reside in a place of torment and trial called Hades.

I have totally gotten off the track of waiting for the wood stove to kick in and make warmth. But I guess that is also the point—our lives are our lives—each piece is a part of the whole. Even though I keep track of my ups and downs—my ons and offs—God—the creator of the universe—sees me complete—one piece—a whole man. And as I have accepted Christ, He has accepted me—in the Beloved—from my beginning until my very end.

He is on the ride with me. Until immoratlity swallows up mortality.

But for now, the stove is pumping out the heat—spring is really not that far away. I am out of words and patience.

Enjoy the ride!

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2 Responses to Home From Work And Waiting For The House To Get Warm

  1. Carey says:

    Terry:I want to encourage you to keed writing. Your thoughts are a great source of encouragement and inspiration to me. Keep up. Here are three of your writings from this last blog that I most appreciate, especially the first one, which hits square in the middle of what my book is dealing with. 3 quotes from 01/08/07 blog: “Culture has chosen to objectify us and separate us from our source—to make it seem that we are random acts of invention or better yet—molecular structures that have evolved into rational beings.” “Death is a process that changes where we live or the body that we inhabit—but life goes on and on and on. For some, after death, we will inhabit a place called heaven for all eternity” “He is on the ride with me. Until immortality swallows up mortality.” Great thoughts. Great truth. Keep up the good work. Last quote: “Enjoy the ride!” Carey

  2. ded says:

    Hey Terry,Steve told me you had a blog, and I figured the comment from “Terry” on his blog might be you. I loved reading your blog. Your voice comes through so strong I can hear that easy lilt of yours that so refreshed me on the bike ride several weeks back.I was glad to visit over at Cheap Joe’s recently. It was great to see old faces and feel accepted by them once again. Does time heal or have recent events cast me in a new light? It doesn’t matter.Being at home in one another’s hearts is what we are looking for and believe is possible. The guys “who don’t want you to play” aren’t awake yet to their yearning to be home with each other; they still think they have to matter.I look forward to another ride when the weather warms up. Before it does, and you need to get that saw out of the package, give me a call. I’ll come stack the wood you cut. It’ll be fun.

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