Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Everybody Should Have a Chuck, or What's my stomach doing down there?

Today Chuck called. I like Chuck. I even think I trust Chuck. I have never met Chuck in person - but how can I not like Chuck?

Chuck is a name which reminds me of eating time on the trail. Like when the big triangle rang for grub at the Chuck Wagon on Wagon Train. Chuck is the guy who has some stew made out of who knows what, but it hits the spot when you're tired, and feeling like a homeless, friendless dog looking for a handout.

Of course, I could be living an Esau moment, and might be willing to sell my birthright for a bowl of lentil stew, but I don't think Chuck is a conniver like Jacob, so I should be safe.

I've been talking with Chuck for a number of months. That's what Chuck does. He talks to people, and he does it well. But he does it well because he listens well also.

Everyone should have a Chuck.

I've only said that line about two people. The first was Dave, and I still think everyone needs a Dave too.

Well, here's the real reason I am writing today: This is one of the things Chuck said, "Phil, in all the time I've been talking with you, this is the first time I've heard you sound down. I've never heard discouragement in your voice before."

I did not think that I was particularly down, but when he said those words, I realized it was true. 'What's my heart doing down close to my stomach?' I thought.

I've been going through some completely ridiculous, incomprehensible things for about 6 months, and I am ready for them to end, but they keep dragging on. False accusations, and absurd conclusions by superstitious Christians have been haunting us for some time.

I guess there comes a time when you get so captured by the transitory struggles of life, that you don't even realize that you have created a new mode of normality, and it's far lower than your previous state of being. I thought I was doing fine when I was talking to Chuck, but he knew better. I guess I do too now.

Really I am fine, or I guess what I mean is, really I will be fine.

Thanks Chuck.


kidpositive said...

it's hard when you're so used to being trampled that you forget that you're being trampled. and althought it's a complete relief when you stop getting trampled, it's really hard to realize that "not being trampled" is an actual state of existence when you're being trampled.

i really believe in what you're doing. i know that's no help from a youngin' like me, but just thought i'd let you know i'm on your side...

Pastor Phil said...

You must really believe in us, cause we've still got your marimbharpsischpielythingy with the all the crazy strings at our place.

Thanks bro. When you come to your place of power will you slay my enemies? No, wait, that's not what Jesus wants - is it? I guess conquering by the sign of the cross has to end somewhere.

kidpositive said...

we'll do a carebare stare at them. that will have the effect of destroying all evil the in them, while still salvaging their bodies and minds.

Pastor Phil said...

I hate the carebears. Can't wear our underwear on the outside of our pants, and come up with a creative solution like Quailman instead?

kidpositive said...

you hate the carebears! what? come on! they stand for everything that's good! nonviolence, love, kindness. i guess they are a bit sissy, but they're my type of people. :) if i ever get rich, kidpositive will have his own "positivebear". that'd be cool. it'd be a bear that conquers all with his nonviolent internet postings. ha...

Pastor Phil said...

I can see it now: Auralbear makes sounds of peace. You could create a carebear toy which incessantly contributes to the white noise problem in parents' homes by generating sounds of the beach, or crickets chirping.

I think I still like wearing my underwear on the outside of my pants - even if I can't spell potatoe - poteato - poatato - uh, you know.