Goodbye...

In honor of the Mickey Mouse Show:

Now its time to say Goodbye to all our family:

B-Y-E-B-Y-E----X-A-N-G-A.....

It is supposed to snow here tomorrow. Am I ready for the beginning of a New England winter?

I will find out soon enough.

paul

Currently Listening Illinois By Sufjan Stevens see related

It is nearly one am and I am sitting in Lane (student center) trying to study for a test. I am, as always, looking for the big picture, which I am not sure I have found and will probably give up on and just memorize the kings of Israel in order and try to remember which ones are bad and good.

The weekend was good. I went to the White Mountians in New Hampshire with a class I am in and we hiked Mt. Minor, spent the night in a cabin, and hiked again this morning for a while. Hiking was a little frustrating as my pride was tested by the challenging pace and heavy pack on my back. And yet somehow, when we got to the top, I realized how worth it the hike was. I will make fun of John Eldridge (and I don't feel bad about doing it) and the fact that his understanding of masculinity has more to do with Braveheart than the Bible, but he really hit on something when he challenged people to take risks. It seems sometimes we can pave away our insecurities and protect ourselves from all possible risky choices by living in cities and suburbs.We lose a sense of the vast and untameable nature of Creation and our Creator.

We stayed in a cabin on Lake Ossipee. The sky was so clear. I cannot remember the last time I saw so many stars. In the midst of my trying to deny the existence of a God, it was the stars that kept me from being able to buy it. There was and still is for me something of the transendent present in Creation, the sunsets and sunrises and the stars at night that speak of the reality of the unseen realm.

It was good to be away, to see the beauty of NH, to help cook a meal one night, to begin friendships and have good conversations late at night on the roof.

Well, enough reflection. I must study. Last note: I will be in GA by 7 tomorrow and I am looking forward to seeking family, friends, a room to myself for a few days, and rest. Just a few more hours.....

~pm~

So there I sat, in my discovery* class with my classmates. I glance around at the trees and read the signs that fall is coming to end. I shift on the log, trying to make the bark more comfortable. I feel a chill in the air as winter whispers that it is coming soon. 

My instructor pulls his pen to mark the role. I dutifully nod as he glances around and makes eye contact with me; he marks me present in his role book. And then, my eye catches a flash of burgundy; the color seems strangely familiar. I look closer and see a triangular type formation on the pen as he turns it in his hand, marking others present. A flash, as suddenly I realize why I know the color and recognize the symbol.

'Why does he have that pen? Where did he get it from? Is this a sign from God?" I ponder all this while continuing to stare at the pen.

He sets it down and walks away from our little square log arrangement. I casually ask the classmate sitting closest to the pen to throw it to me. I must confirm this strange notion.

My classmate tosses it; he and the others wondering why I have taken such an interest in the instructor's pen.

"Christ Above All." I started to hum and piece together the lyrics "As the years have....around us, (somethingsomething) then unfold, on the hours we spent at Bryan, 'neath the red and gold....By our motto we firmly stand..." (Did you do it? Did you sing it?)

I could say that tears sprang to my eyes but that would be false and slightly foolish, crying over a blue ballpoint pen. But I did have flashes of the night I sang the alma mater with my friends to Dr. Livesay, in his pajamas, at 11 o'clock at night, the soccer games, the banners and face paint and the screaming "Yeah, BC!"

But on to more important matters. Where did the pen come from?

I asked my instructor when he got back. He had no idea. He was from Maine and had never heard of Bryan.

 I saw this movie once where the film followed a dollar from story to story, person to person. I wish I could have followed the pen from wherever it started to how it ended up there. Any theories? The more preposterous, the better.