First off, I just want to say that I’m pretty excited that I finally mustered enough courage to put all of something from this dumpster fire of a blog, into something of just a little more value. Of course, I’m referring to my recent dive into the 7 Last Words of Jesus Christ.
After going through YouTube tutorials and deciding on an approach, I was able to start and finish a layout that makes all of it look good, at least in a PDF… so far. I may or may not go through the text – it all depends on if I decide to have something like this printed, and as I write this, heck, I think I will do exactly that. After all the dopamine is spent, I’ll go back to all that I wrote, and (1) have it printed as a real booklet, and (2) setup a digital product platform to have electronic copies sold for, oh, a buck each for, what – the second edition? Wow.
You think I’m undervaluing myself? Well, considering that the source information is Public Domain (the Bible), I may as well be overcharging. Least, that’s how I think of it. But enough of this.
Second thing I want to share today is that I’ve been going out at night more recently, just to walk, so I could hit ten thousand steps a day.
Yesterday, I made the decision to hit my steps by making my way to a 24 hour convenience store that’s, oh, around a kilometer or two away from where I live. I gave myself the reason that I was running out of wheat bread, which in my mind justified the night walk.
I made my way there, got the bread and some sodium ascorbate (you can never have enough vitamin C stocked up), and started my return walk. Along the way I noticed what looked like an old lady walking around and selling something. It was around 8 in the evening, and I thought, it was dark and otherwise too late for anyone, much less an old lady, to go around door-to-door peddling their wares.
I decided to stand around and ‘rest’, and eventually, she made her way to me – and I didn’t wait, I was the one who engaged her, asking her what she was selling in the local dialect. Turns out that the little plastic bags she was holding had boiled peanuts inside of them. She had four, but I only had enough change to buy two bags.
We engaged in a pseudo-conversation of sorts; I say that because she was speaking softly, in the local dialect (of which I could survive a 5-10 minute exchange before blanking out and giving canned responses past that time period), and we were at the side of the national highway. I was still trying to listen and respond appropriately, but another thing that I had in mind that kept me from being fully engaged was a thought – I don’t think I want my own mother to be this way, out at night at this time selling peanuts for peanuts.
We eventually maintained an exchange, enough for me to remember her name (Mama Magdalena) and where she was from (Kias, Loakan), as I gave her my first name and the general area where I lived as well. Oh, and what was also nice was, what I did hear was she was talking about the Lord, and I take it that she was slightly frustrated that people she spoke to either could not understand, and/or did not believe in Him. To this, I’m pretty sure I said (in broken dialect, which I’m sure I butchered brutally) that she should just keep sharing, no matter what.
Anyway, We parted ways, with me hoping that I would see her again – and if I do, I’d be ready to buy everything she had so she could just go home already.
Fast forward to half an hour ago, while I was out trying to hit my ten thousand steps for today, after a long day. I set out, only this time I didn’t intend to go all the way to the convenience store. I just wanted to reach the main highway and go up a little bit, so I hit exactly ten thousand as I come back home.
No, I didn’t see Mama/Lola Magdalena (and if I did, I’d probably scold her this time for being out too late)… but as I attempted to go up the main highway a little further, I stumbled upon the reason why I was hearing all sorts of sirens earlier in the walk. Uphill traffic was building up because the police were in the main highway – apparently an accident just happened. There was an ambulance, back doors open. I also noticed a stretcher and a downed motorcycle. I didn’t go any closer, didn’t want to see any more details, fought the temptation to take a picture, and took it as a sign for me to start making my way back home.
And OF COURSE this all got me thinking, we’re just so blessed to be so safe, and to be so secure. Anything can happen to us, whether it’s something that happens in the blink of an eye, or the consequence of a buildup of circumstances.
I’m not making any further assumptions beyond what I’ve observed and who I interacted with – for all I know, Mama Magdalena was a multi-billionaire who just found it fun to sell peanuts late at night, and (God willing) nobody was badly injured, and no property was completely destroyed.
When I did hear the sirens, I was in the middle of praying while I was walking, and I was trying to make it more than just repetitious stuff off the top of my head – in the process of being more real with my God, I found myself praying -rather, thanking God that even if I subscribe more to the belief system that generally insists that I trust in the Lord more than make demands of Him, the bottom line is I could come as I am to Him, running to my Father’s throne of grace at my time of need, for anything that comes to mind – including whatever those sirens were headed to, and while I was at it, for my brothers and their families, halfway around the world.
And on the way back home, I suppose I celebrated the Christ-bought opportunity to come as I am to God, by way of thanking Him – for keeping me safe each and every time I make these walks, and, really, keeping me and my family together financially, as He keeps me safe and alert and extremely patient each and every time I commandeer a vehicle 15 times heavier than I am. Yes, I made that precise calculation.
And, see, that’s the thing – if not for the events that Christendom remembers today, we wouldn’t even have the idea, much less any semblance of confidence to come to God so casually, yet in awe and reverence, not in hubris and indifference.
The finished work of Christ makes us safe and sound, not cocky and disrespectful. And the cross is what we remember today – the cross Christ took in our place, one that symbolizes the sin He took completely, so we could live in light and righteousness.
It really is Good Friday.
God bless us all.
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