Beloved, I Need You to Know

 

I am 

not safe

because 

we are 

not safe.

I am not safe.  

because we are not safe.

Our grandparents are not safe.

Our children are not safe.

Our parents are not safe.

Our neighbors are not safe.

Our neighbors 

who are people 

of color

are not safe.

Our neighbors 

regardless 

of legal status, 

are not safe.

Our neighbors, 

precious in the sight 

of God and made 

in the image of God, 

        who we are called 

        to love as we love 

        ourselves 

are not safe. 

And so we 

are not safe.  

And so I 

am not safe.  

And so 

neither 

are you.

When the truth hurts

Safety is a lie
we tell ourselves
to sleep at night
and to get out of
bed in the morning.
Like most self-
deceptions, it hurts us
when it shatters and
lets out the truth.

Something I heard late one night

I didn't actually see anything.  I just heard it:  the crunching squeal of tires skidding on ice over and over for half a minute in the parking lot, the skid, the crash of a significant impact between two cars, the sound of something glass shattering, the brief silence, more glass falling, the engine gunning, more skidding, and a fishtailing journey out of the icy parking lot and away down the street at something significantly over the speed limit.  Why?

I thought about calling the police.  I didn't because, well, what can they do when you report hearing a crime?  I wondered if I should tell the apartment manager in case the poor person whose parked car got smashed into needed someone to back up their claim to the insurance company that they were a victim and not responsible for the damages.  But I didn't SEE it, and the insurance company would still have to pay for it unless the criminal was caught, which would not happen based on my testimony.

In the end, I said nothing and told no one and was very glad I pay extra to have a garage stall to park in at night.  I do that because I can't dig my car out of the snow and/or ice, but apparently it's also handy against random acts of pointless, stupid vehicular vandalism.  Yes, Mom, my insurance rates did go down when I moved here.  I can't really imagine why . . .

Roads not there

There is massive construction on the only road that leads away from my apartment.  Massive.  The location of the actual road changes weekly, sometimes daily.  Sometimes it's closed completely.  They're rebuilding the bridge over the highway, so the location of the exits changes frequently, too.  Right now, one is at an impossible angle, and I saw a miracle: a semi perched on the embankment after failing to make an impossible left turn onto the ramp.  A couple more feet, and it would have crashed onto the highway below.

Before the snow came, people drove like idiots even when things were clearishly marked by signs and lane painting and orange barrels.  Now that the snow is here and sometimes covers the road, I am not going to be taking that road anymore.  There are far too many idiots out there with drivers' licenses, and I don't want to meet them.

Sorry, Frost.  :)

Attack of the R.O.U.S.

You know the R.O.U.S. in Princess Bride?  I was coming home very late one night after work and barely keeping it together as a driver when I saw one.  I was on the last road to my home, and I was really spacing, admiring the stars and the darkness.  I scolded myself awake with the threat that if a lovely deer stepped out into the road near the railroad tracks I cross 50 yards from home, I wouldn't be alert enough to stop in time before the majestic deer or my car became distinctly unlovely very fast. 

Lo, and behold, a creature did appear and cause me to slam on the breaks, but it was nothing graceful like a deer.  It was quite possibly the largest opossum I have ever seen, and watching that thing waddle/lope/lumber across the road gave me an unpleasant flashback to the movie Princess Bride (which you should see if you haven't already seen it but do possess a sense of humor and have nothing against fantasy). (The bookis good, too.)

Luckily, nothing dropped onto the roof from above or bit me, so I was okay.  If something as big as that critter had fallen onto my car, it would have killed me, since the top of my head is 1.23" from the roof.  Also, there were no quicksand pits.  A successful day, all in all.

Are you safe?

God calls us to abundant lives, not safe lives.  I wonder if we think about what that means enough.  Here's a great video clip that illustrates how we live most of the time.

Yep, that about says it.  Your thoughts?