Virtually yours

Buying a house while traveling to Europe? Well it is aaa serious juggling act I can tell you that for sure. I have done some crazy things in the past. In fact the last house that I purchased, I did sight unseen, actually never laying eyes on the physical place until six months after I had already purchased it. Did it all, every single bit of it, on the advice and recommendation of a friend . . . who also signed all the documents in my name!

Today I am trying the same thing in a different way.  I am placing a bid on a house in one state, while flying through two others, on my way to two other countries, all happening over the internet through a VPN, while never actually physically signing anything. This is just another side to the virtual world I live in all the time and the virtual work I accomplish every week. Most of my meetings and most of my work happens on the web, not in person. Virtually buying a house may just be the logical normal next step for a virtual president and CEO like myself.

Virtually yours, David

Rigor mortis

They have been sucking all the air out of the room for weeks! The challenges of working from my parents home are proving formidable. This was not true in the past, but it certainly is now. End of life scenarios run amuck in their presence. They have planned out their funerals, purchased their burial plots, committed themselves to rigor mortis, or rather a rigorous schedule of eating at precise times, certain foods, certain practices, all the confidence that these rigors will give structure and stability at a point in life that has none of those  certainties. It is difficult to watch, difficult to help, and difficult to bear - and all the while knowing that I am right behind them and wishing for my end to be different. That is what I mean by sucking all the air out of the room.

It is so overwhelming that it leaves no moments to think, to reflect in quiet, it is all too loud and noisy and boisterous even, to have some focus and clarity. It says far too much that I have to get on an airplane and cruise at 39k feet in order to find some thinking time, some reflecting time, some clarity time. 

We are all moving this same direction. Everyone before us has passed through these doors to eternity - our physical bodies coming to a place invariably where they refuse/cannot function any longer. No one is 100% certain of how our bodies and our souls can function without one another, none of us have ever yet had that experience, but it is coming, that is for certain. My brother believes when your physical body closes down, can't go any longer, regardless of the reason, then you simply cease to exist as a person. That is the END of all meaning and END of all existence in any form other than as fertilizer for the earth. 

But that simply is not the experience of the historical Jesus. And as Death's destroyer, He gives us hope and a future, even though I can't tell you or explain to you all the mechanics and physics of HOW it will happen, I simply do not have enough information nor am I smart enough to understand it even if I had it, to satisfy your curiosity (or mine). This historical Jesus is the One where I am placing my trust, in Him who broke the power of Death over us, and yes it can take us temporarily, but not eternally, and no I don't know how or why. Even 30 plus years as a theologian, and I still cannot explain it in a way that will satisfy the vast majority. I trust Him. My brother calls it "feelgoodism" and a "crutch" and a "desperateattempttohavehopewherethereisnone" among other things. I prefer to call it trust. "Trust is the evidence of things hoped for, the confidence of things not seen."

Goodbyes

There are always goodbyes and more goodbyes in our lives. It is simply a life of goodbyes, and I regularly tell newbies this when they are thinking about coming to our neck of the woods, or when they arrive. No sense in painting it as anything else. In a word, it is the highest regular price extracted of International Workers in my opinion.

This last week has been an oasis in life, hanging with the grand baby and two of the three kids, seeing them everyday, participating in their lives, making memories and having fun together. But the goodbye can always hang there in the corner of a cloudless sky if you don't take care to enjoy THIS moment, to enjoy THIS memory, to make this second count. The future is always, and never, there, to be encountered eventually. 

So tomorrow I will crank the bike up, and drive away . . .  as I have done countless times before, or said goodbye at some obscure airport in some hairy armpit of the world, or left them at boarding school, or flew away without them, and say goodbye. Then the countdown will begin until we can see them again. It is a life of goodbyes.