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Some Old Coats

A few weeks ago I flew to Tennessee to visit two very close friends. During the trip, we stayed with ones grandparents. I don’t know either very well, but admire them from what I do know. Their granddaughter – one of my friends – had to work Sunday morning, leaving the two of us in the capable hands of her grandparents. They took as to church and introduced us to friends, if unequally – a poor mathematician is just no match for an operatic tenor. On the drive to meet my friend, I sat in the back seat with her grandmother. We began to talk about wit and tongues (not the speaking languages kind, mind you). She made a point to tell me that God has given some – i.e. the two of us – the gift of a sharp tongue. But we aren’t to use it to tear down, but to show mercy to those with whom we speak.

Later in our conversation – the ride to my friends office took about 15 minutes, so we were quite efficient with our words – she was telling me a story of a pastor she once knew, one who helped her get serious about her relationship with God. He told her that he could tell all about the condition of a man’s heart just by seeing inside the trunk of his car. A messy trunk was indicative of a messy life.

I have come to realize in the past couple of years that I don’t have the answers (actually, I didn’t get the questions until last fall). So I have gotten over – generally – my arrogant self-assuredness. But it hit me as I asked a friend a simple question, “Are you satisfied with how you lived out your 2010?”


Three simple words that are overflowing with significance. I was even nice and left it to just this past year, but turning the question back to myself, no. I’m not satisfied with how I lived my 2010. I am thoroughly disappointed with what I have let my life become. If you were to look in my car you’d see over 10 old-man-coats as I fondly refer to them. They’ve been there since I was a junior in high school. I was supposed to take them to a thrift store but never got around to it. so they have sat, for years, gathering dust almost forgotten, but not quite. And that’s my life. A bunch of dust covered memories that I’m too lazy to finally get rid of. I can’t seem to find a ‘convenient’ time to get rid of them, so they take away space from new joys.

Now that I’ve shared some of my short comings, I leave you with another question, “How will you live out your 2011?”

(Names have been left out to protect the unsuspecting)


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