10. June 2010 by admin.

I’m not exactly sure how to begin writing about this, but I had an experience that made me think I was going to die today.  As I was sitting in the break room at work, I had a very sharp, sudden pain in the left side of my chest, about where my heart is.  The first incident I took as a random occurrence, but upon my second breath I realized something was wrong.  Another sharp pain split my chest, and I began to wonder whether or not this was really… it.

There were a few things that popped into my head as it happened, the first two being “not here” and  “not now.”  I suppose everyone thinks this as their life is coming to a close, as they begin to realize how fragile they were the entire time, and how much they’d taken their strength–and every possible misconception of invincibility–for granted.  If there’s one thing we can be sure of, it’s that not everyone is fortunate enough to die in battle, or to die rescuing someone, or to die a martyr, or doing anything with any purpose at all.  Actually, quite a few people kick the bucket and don’t have enough time to realize they’re about to meet their maker, and even less are likely to find Him even if they did.  But for some of us, there’s enough time to ponder what they did–and didn’t–do with their time. Read the rest of this entry »

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25. January 2009 by admin.

I have to admit that I’m a bit jaded when media-circus disasters show their obnoxious faces.  Perhaps it’s because I don’t understand the full reality of the disasters, perhaps it’s because nobody I personally know has been affected, and perhaps it’s because we seem to have a new disaster every year, but any way you look at it I’m not the kind of guy who holds a candle-light vigil every time a tsunami comes around.  Frankly, these situations feel so far away, the people seem so foreign, and I have my own life to worry about.

Part of the reason I felt this way was due to Hurricane Katrina’s aftermath: I’d donated my hard-earned money to the Red Cross because I felt it was the right thing to do, only to be disgusted later with the media-ignored tales from people who were actually there.  I couldn’t help but feel my stomach turn into knots when listening to witnesses describe the ghettoest of the ghetto inhabitants shooting at their rescuers, trying to loot their boats.  The coast guard eventually had to tell do-gooders not to try and rescue anyone, because the heroes were being attacked.  I heard about murders, I heard about rioting and looting, and I sat back and wondered whether my money had supported a rapist, or a mugger.  I wondered how many people’s homes were broken into and their families tied up while armed burglars rummaged through their possessions.  Suddenly, I felt like what I had done out of kindness had been turned into something vile, and I was determined never to send money into a Black ghetto disaster for the rest of my life. Read the rest of this entry »

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