Road Trip

Megs is my best traveling buddy. Even when I asked if I could take out my contacts and switch to my glasses while driving, she politely agreed. No worries, I pulled off at the next exit to change them out. 

I wish I had pictures to share, but that will probably not happen. The weather was mostly rainy and cold, so nothing special to look at. Unless you count the man in uniform that shared Sunday brunch with us. Talking about hot stuff. 

Megs and I spend many moments planning our next trip. Especially on the drive or flight back. We figure we are going to be single for, well, a long time. And just so you don't worry, we are a-ok with this reality. A-ok. Some may call it independence. Others feminism at its best. Still some, something about being picky. Whatever, I am single. We are single. (Megs doesn't mind me speaking for her. Right, Megs?)

I love road trips. Tough this one did me in for a while. I did about 24 hours of driving over a five/six day period. I enjoy just talking and catching up. I even like the getting lost part. Bad words and all. Bad, bad words. It makes Megs laugh. And we are never bringing that damn GPS. 

I like the moments of silence when the conversation lingers and then trails off. Creating an easy silence. 

Then there is that moment when the silence breaks. Usually by a question. In this case, Rush Limbaugh. Before Megs could even finish the question, I let out the exaggerated sigh. Come on, do you blame me? But I listened. She did repeat the question. And then again. Repeated her concerns over the media's betrayal of his "fail" comment. She made me listen. Take note of the other side. And be more attentive to the whole story. And I didn't want to. But this what we do. Ask the hard questions. Be honest. Listen. Share openly. Dialogue. Curbside conference. Holy conferencing. (FYI: I have a bigger bone to pick with Mr. Limbaugh. Not so much about what he says but more about the enormous contract he recently signed.) 

The silence was broken. And thank God. We've got to do this more. Agree or disagree. Heated or mellow. The questions must be asked. The silence is comfortable. Easy. Safe. Unremarkable. 

The silence must be broken. At some point we have to ask the burning questions. The questions of yesterday, today, and tomorrow. The questions that change us. The world. To create and maintain relationships. 

The problem, I can't wait for another road trip. We can't wait for the next road trip. 

BEAT

Photo Friday

Recent boot camp survivor and official sailor extraordinaire:

J. Barr

Outside Chicago, IL

January 15, 2009 

I thought about the army (okay, navy)...

Dear Jason,

Tomorrow you start a new career. 10+ weeks of basic. When you told me you enlisted I didn't know what the hell you were thinking. Most days, I still don't.  (I'm being honest with you, buddy.)

You know I don't support war.  We worship a God of peace and harmony.  Jesus Christ told us to turn the other cheek. The Holy Spirit allows us to live as a reconciled community.  We are brothers and sisters in Christ.  We are brothers and sisters with all God's people. 

Yet, you still leave tomorrow.  To serve, protect, and become an adult? To promote peace? To be? Whatever the reason, much thanks.  Like I said on the phone: Blessings upon blessings upon blessings. Like God intends: Grace upon grace upon grace.  Most of all (and this will never change), I love you. 

My brother, be safe. Be wise. Be patient. And in every second, be an agent of divine peace.  

What can I give you other than intercessions and supplications?  Well, I dedicate my favorite Ben Folds' song to you on this eve of your departure.  And letters. Lots and lots of letters are headed your way. 

Enjoy these entertaining words. I love you. And thanks, for being my brother and being dedicated to a cause. 

Grace upon grace, 

BEAT Bear