well I can’t say I’ll know you when you come around
you look like a giant in
my hand-me-downs
taller than anythin’
riding a horsey through the town
One of the things I remember noticing about getting older was that the act of falling down changed completely. When I was 10, 11, even 12 years old, provided I had a reasonably compliant surface, I could fall down all day every day, in most any orientation. My brothers and I would confirm this almost daily through our constant wrestling matches (amazing how they occurred with uncanny frequency whenever my mom would answer the phone). I suppose it’s just the laws of physics, really–once I got taller and my more vital bits (head, etc) got further from the ground, the added potential energy decreased the margin of safety should a tumble occur. I just remember a conscious, rational thought process during my early teen years, deciding that falling down probably wasn’t such a good idea in this or that circumstance. There was a safety check where there previously hadn’t been anything. I’m sure it’s like that for a lot of the physical activities we used to participate in, and hopefully still do, but most likely without quite the same abandon–running flat-out, climbing, skipping, jumping, etc… We have controlled settings for those sorts of things now, called sports. But do you remember what it was like to run in the backyard or down the street, just to run? Or playing freeze tag? I miss those things. Anybody up for a mass game of red rover or duck-duck-goose this weekend?
I wonder how many of us would readily confess that we were receiving financial help from our parents. Real financial independence and stability is a big goal for a lot of people our age…and I’ll say, for one, that it’s not exactly easy to volunteer that my parents helped a lot in setting up my IRA before the middle of last month. And it’s doubly hard to for me to accept, let alone disclose, that they’re helping me quite a bit with the financial side of my upcoming school plans this fall. They paid for the majority of my undergrad at NCSU, and on a certain level they really bought me the job I have now through the finance of the education that bolstered the skills necessary to get hired. So in that sense a part of me feels like this next step should be an entirely self-propelled career move, where I establish myself more on my own terms than I did last time around. But as soon as I start to think along those lines, I’m always hit with a couple of realizations. First, I’m going into a profession that relies on external financial support for most of its operation, so accepting financial support shouldn’t strike a nerve. I should instead strive to be responsible and faithful with what I’m given. And second, that whole mindset just reeks of selfishness. This whole endeavor really is God’s; He’ll be the Author, Sustainer and Finisher of it, and He’ll set up the circumstances and meetings resources to carry out His will and my ultimate good. That doesn’t excuse sloth in the least, but breeds hope, an especially valuable attribute when discouragement looms around every decision and encounter. The next few months are going to be a blur.
Anybody up for a mass game of red rover or duck-duck-goose this weekend?
I play duck-duck-goose on a weekly basis, but red rover? It’s been ages. We can’t play it at camp anymore, as someone broke their arm not too long ago, but I’d love to play it. How awesome; great idea!
PS – You’re in my prayers.
Someone broke their arm playing red rover? Or playing something else? Goodness.
Thanks for your prayers, Em :)
Hah. Playing red rover. Last summer, one girl busted her head open playing basketball in the pool.
i absolutely HATE that my mom is making my car payment and my dad is paying the auto insurance. hate it, hate it, hate it.
I know the feeling. The exchange of money isn’t an easy thing, even if they really want to help out.