Who Would Really Want To Be "Meek"?

If one reads the Beatitudes, as found in the fifth chapter of Matthew, it can be said that the rewards that they promise will be delivered in heaven, all except for one: "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth."

The following are headlines or parts of headlines taken from the Sunday, April 17th edition of the Winston-Salem Journal newspaper:

"Youths beat a gentle man; One beat the system"

"Woman accused of assaulting father in '02; She is now charged with stabbing her boyfriend to death"

"Experts warn of Facebook stress"

"Barrage said to kill at least five civilians in rebel-held Misrata"

"Violent storms kill several in N.C."

"Tornados kill dozens across Deep South"

"Bomber kills 5 NATO, 4 Afghan troops, interpreter"

"Mothers killing kids isn't so uncommon"

"Husband kills wife, 3 children, himself"

Who would really want to inherit this earth? If there is indeed a heaven, being there doesn't have to be much better than the earth as we know it in order to be wonderful! As far as my share of this old earth might go, you are welcome to it.

Running Away

I caution you that this is going to be long, so you may just want to skip it. I would guess that almost everyone, who tries to write, does most of the work in their head before putting it down on some media. I know that this is the case for me, although my organization of thoughts may often be disjointed.

I'm ready, for about the 5th or 6th time, to run away from home. All of us had the "I'll show them. They'll be sorry." thoughts when we were young. Maybe we even made it around the block, but we always came back before anyone missed us. Later years bring real desires to run. Maybe it's a terrible job, an unhappy relationship, too many responsibilities, a choice that must be made, but can't be faced or a combination of many factors.

I think that I missed my absolute best chance to run when I got out of the Marine Corps. All I could think of was getting back to college (the damned expected route - "I'm now grown up and must do as expected!") Sara and I were young, very much in love, and had no real obligations to anyone other than our partner. We were used to living in small towns and very large cities. We were used to living in houses and efficiency apartments. We were used to making a living on our own. The love and the lovemaking didn't depend on geographic location!

Do you remember Tod Stiles and Buzz Murdock traveling Route 66 in their Corvette? How about "Me and You and a Dog Named Boo" travelin' and a-livin' off the land? Sara and I couldn't have afforded a Corvette, but we might have been able to afford some old clunker or even, in those days, taken a Greyhound bus. A year of exploring the US, with maybe some side trips into Canada and Mexico, wouldn't have made a difference in the grand scheme of things, but what a golden opportunity was missed.

Today, I want to run away again. I want it to be Sara and me and a dog named Lenny. For lots of reasons, I know that this just isn't going to happen, but the road calls to me with such a strong Siren song that sometimes I think I'll die of need to travel it. I don't think I've changed that much from the young Marine who was willing to go, but Sara has changed a lot. She has a family and friends and likes the idea of knowing where her next meal is coming from, where she will sleep tonight, and what she can pretty much expect from tomorrow. I would gladly give up those things, but I won't give up Sara, so the road may sing, but I cannot answer.

I don't run from work. Let me work, but let me do it my way for awhile. Let me deliver meals to the needy in Detroit. Let me drive school buses in Denver. Let me rebuild houses in Port au Prince. Let me prepare federal tax returns in Shiprock. Let me clear tsunami damage in Japan. Let me teach at The Gathering schools in Cielo and Nazaret. Let me live instead of exist.

Winston Groom, the author of "Forest Gump", also wrote a book titled "As Winters Die." I didn't care much for the book ("Better Times Than These", about Viet Nam, was better), but the title drove a stake through my heart. How many more winters might I see die and how many more springs will I see follow? Sometimes I think that I will burst from need. Who knows, maybe life on the road would take me away from the constant depression that I medicate daily and will medicate for the rest of my life.

What would I expect from the road? Sights, sounds, smells, feels, tastes. The stories of people I've never known. The opportunity to meet those who are trying to make their little corner of the world a better place to live. The chance to comfort those who need a hug or a friendly ear or a shared meal. The greatest expectation would be that the shared experiences would bring Sara and I so closely back together that one of us would not be able to breathe without the other inhaling.

I will love Sara forever and will stay with her wherever that might happen to be. On the other hand, in my truck, I keep a spare toothbrush, a bag of dog food, a clean pair of underwear (a lesson from my mother), and an atlas. So... if you ever see the little black truck, front seat filled with a smiling fool and a huge yellow Lab, heading out of town, don't expect to see it come back any time soon.