Life

Growing faith

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A recurring theme throughout my life has been the desire to respect others. Sure, some parts of my personality can be a thorn to some, but who amongst us can say that is not true for any person. In my early teens, I allowed my peers to turn my heart to hardness. This lasted until I was in my mid-twenties. One thing that I know marked these years was the mere fact that I had become selfish and self-serving.
When I became born again at twenty-six the man, what I should have been came back into existence. A man that God knew and recognized. (See my post “Overwhelming sin” to understand what I meant by this statement). The man returned to what the boy I had been before I allowed my peers to turn me into what I had become in the dark years.
I learned to give into my desires and wants in those years. I allowed myself to listen to only myself. Not caring if I hurt people. Many of these people were girls and women, especially when I turned eighteen.
Regret is one thing that has crossed my mind more than once over the last quarter of a century plus. Sometimes this regret causes me to do things that help others. Then there are times this regret has made me avoid situations out of fear they may be a repeat of something from my past that I do not wish to go through again. I feel these regrets are due to me trying to think of others before myself.
Too many times in the Bible we are told be humble, placing others before ourselves. The emphasis is too poignant that true faith requires humility, thus selflessness. When you are selfish, you are not acting for God. When thinking of your own desires no matter how little or big you have placed yourself before others.
I really think it is in all of us to be humble. I know I was humble when I was a child and had forgotten it due to pain and humiliation. How I returned to it is where free-will comes into play. I felt wrong from my behavior. I felt more guilt as I became more selfish. I do not know if others experience this and hide it, but it allowed me to face myself and realize this is not what God wanted for me or us for that matter. So I chose through the act of free-will to return to what I was taught in my youth.
I know I am not perfect. No human can ever be perfect. I know I have overcome sins that would have turned me into someone other then what I am. I know not only that it was God, but an inner strength that has allowed me to grow into the man I am today. Where did I get this inner strength? From my trials I have face throughout my life. Without these trials, I feel I would in no way be the man I am today.
All I do know is that the man that types these words today is in fact someone who deserves to be call a man, since there is a difference between being male and being a man. It is by God and for God that I am here, and I praise Him for that.

Steel Blue

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In all my life, I feel I can honestly say I have never truly seen steel blue eyes until very recently. I have seen them depicted in comic books. I have read their description in books, but to have actually seen them for real is just amazing.
I have looked into various women’s eyes more times than I would like, but I have never been lucky in that department. My two marriages both lasted around a decade. Both of them had hazel eyes. I enjoyed looking into those eyes, especially for the first one. The first girl I could call a girlfriend had blue eyes, but not much you can think of doing but playing when you are five.
Then I saw those eyes that were the brightest pale blue I have ever seen, and I wished I were a younger man. I thought I had crossed a line in my maturity the day I watched a Taylor Swift video and thought, “she would be a wonderful daughter.” Now here I am wanting to hold a young woman and just stare into her eyes and get lost in them in between kisses.
Dare I ask? I do not know.

A warrior lost.

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I was not old enough for the Vietnam War; by the time of the first Gulf War, I was too old. Was this for my good, or did it make me less of a person, I cannot say.
In some ways I do feel it did not allow me to mature as fast as I should, but from what I understand sometimes you can mature too quickly as war has a tendency to do. Yet again, I have been around several ex-military type that still lacking in maturity.
Now as I get closer and closer to retiring I look at my grey hair that has now become white. I wonder how much longer I will have to live in this body. A body that ages and falls apart.
In my senior year in High School they gave out that aptitude test that tell you, what they think you are best suited for. Me? They said I would make a great helicopter mechanic. It is amazing how things go full circle. Now I work for a company that manufactures helicopters. Some of which are used by the military. I have always liked aircraft. I enjoy making them. It is a very fulfilling job.
I have always been a planner, especially when it comes to traveling. Now I am planning for my ultimate trip. Not death and what lies beyond that until I get the new body promised to us all, but the traveling I have planned for my retirement years. It takes a warrior’s planning to map out finances and making choices as to where to go and when. The main factor will be the temperature though. It gets too hot, northward we will go. It gets too cold, south is the destination.
My biggest issues that has faced me to date had been getting around once I get to whatever destination I get to. I think I have solves that though, A Can-Am Spyder. That made picking what type of RV limited, but still not one hundred percent sure about that. Still time to think and plan on that, but I shall always feel like a warrior lost.

Mountain Memories

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I have loved the mountains since I was small. My father worked for a big corporation, but one of those guys that got transferred a lot. The thing is I think he took jobs that no one else would take so it would allow him to rise up the corporate chain more quickly.
The thing is it allowed me to spend my informative years in the west. I know from photo albums that I went through the Dakotas. I think I remember seeing Mount Rushmore. I know I saw mountains. Some in the distance, some up close. Sometimes even standing upon them.
I remember going to Little Big Horn and all I saw was rolling hills. I barely recollect the river at Great Falls, but I do remember the home we lived in. It was in a new suburb then. I also recall the winter and opening the front door and seeing snow all the way to the top of it due to being blown against the house. It was still very deep, my head scarcely allowed me to see over it has my older brother pushed his way out ahead of me as I followed him.
The house in Billings was older. There I got stunk by bees a lot. One thing I did enjoy was watching the planes take off from the airport which was atop a plateau next to the city. I have never truly been able to return to the west for a long period of time since I grew up. It is one of those things I truly regret.
The last time was in the west I was on I-40. It was summer and it was hot. One thing that amazed me though was where sections of the interstate either in Arizona or New Mexico that were actually build upon lava flows. It is something that people never even think twice about, but it was totally fascinating to me.
But back to the mountains. My best memories of mountains were in Salt Lake. Once again my father purchased a home in a new subdivision. The mountains were right there. Every day they were there. I loved those mountains. I would walk to school and church looking at them. They were beautiful. I would play in the field behind that house. It even had a sand dune in part of it. I learned to understand why they said Indians would bury people in ant hills. A few yard from my backyard I came upon a huge colony. It had to be a good yard in diameter. It was a fascinating and exciting time. I can honestly say I was happy. The happiest I have ever been.
I know I can never recapture those days ever again. I do wish to at the very least try to revisit some of those memories as I make new memories. Memories I know I will carry with me throughout all my live as I have carried those memories of my childhood.

Trip to Grandma’s

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There are things that just stick with you throughout a life. You can forget friends you once cherished. You can forget some places you have been. There are times though when something just glues itself to your memories. Something that is minor to other that are with you, but to you it becomes a building block on your personality.

One of these blocks for me was on a trip to grandma’s. Many of us had trips to a grand parent or parents. Then many of us have not had that opportunity, or their grandparents live close enough that within a few minutes your are there.

That was not how it was for me. Mine meant traveling for a couple of days. Traveling form the high plains of Montana to the lowlands of the Missouri River. Traveling through Montana, Wyoming, Nebraska and Kansas.

On one of these trips is when my memory was set, and the building block was formed. It is funny I do not remember how old I was exactly, but I must have been about six. It was a cloudy grey day that I am certain. The grasses of the prairie were yellow upon the rolling hills that surround the interstate we were traveling on. Back then seventy-five was the speed limit. For all I know it may have returned to the limit, since several states have ended the need to go fifty-five.

I was looking out the window setting behind my father who was driving, and as I did, I saw them. A herd of Pronghorn Antelope, they crested a hill and curved in over it and then started to run parallel with the highway. I do not know how long they did, but it felt like forever that they did this. To be honest it was most likely nearly two minutes. To watch these animals running has fast as our car and at the same time running up and then down the hills mesmerized me. Then they arced away from the road cresting one more hill and they were gone. I remember looking back trying to still see them, but they were gone.

Yet here I am writing this, and sharing it. They are here, and yet it has been a life time since they were here. It had made it where I love to travel upon the road. A goal I plan to pursue once I retire. A clock I am watching nearly weekly. In time, it will be daily that I watch this clock. Then I will be free to wonder the highways once again and look upon the beauties this nation has to offer. It is something I cannot wait to share.