Other hobbies like playing with pellet guns, paintball, and the scouts led a more obvious path to a career in the military. My foray into journalism though was little more fascinating. Years ago in the sixth grade I was asked to try out to be a TV anchor for our schools morning announcements. I remember those tryouts because I cheerfully read Mickey Mantle's obituary liked a drugged up child. Yankees fans be damned, I roused the audience to new heights like Sam Adams at a tea party. My signature routine was reading the schools birthdays. It was fun. I even got my picture in the paper. Damn I looked good. Still do.
Sorry. Anyway. It wasn't until I lost my zeal for making movies; coupled with an internship that I realized my passion still years to investigate the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. So help me God. I got to be an anchor for a package, write stories, and decide if this is my path. Who knows?
I discussed with a friend the idea of fighting destiny, and I'm incredulous to take a stand. However, I do believe in destiny, but I also believe there is a fight in all of us to do our hearts bidding, even if it runs counter to the ebb and flow of life. Romans 12:3 illustrates my hearts rationale. "The only accurate way to understand ourselves is by what God is and by what he does for us." Understanding our past is the key to making sense of the present and letting your faith guide your future. With so many people struggling to find themselves, maybe its time to look at who you were, because purpose may lie in the trail we've blazed. Rick Warren says, "Without a purpose life is motion without meaning, activity without direction, and events without reason. Without a purpose, life is trivial, petty and pointless."
I couldn't agree more.
I do know that there are common themes that replay through life. Take my Mom. One time my brother and I were very little. We were little shits. Anyway. My mom went in the house to answer the phone, leaving Nate and I in the car. Back then we had no garage and our house was on a hill. And either Nate or I put the car in drive and we were creeping to the cliff. My mom ran out and grabbed the wheel... the car dragging her. Mom stopped the car but was injured. But I remember that when I think of sacrifice. Had she not stopped it, chances are my brother Nate (think Ronald Weasely) or I might not have ever had a dueling whiskey chug-off on the top of Landon's hill. Sacrifice is something that I see a lot. Whether its ideals, feelings, or serendipitous events, it seems that life will always teach us things. It's our job to watch, listen, and feel....
... and to take notes.