...It seemed you were running so well, so swiftly, what hindered you? Good question... I have this old dog named Lucky whose eleven and a half. His hips are "tired", possible artheritis, and if you ever watch him lay down it can take a while. I always insert dialogue like the following:

(Circle, circle , circle) oh, this spot's not right. Over here maybe. (Circle, circle, circle)(2X or 3X) ... No, something's not right. Oh here! Okay, this is good. (Circle, circle, circle)... okay, easy... and down...aaahhh!!

He has a dog pillow, his own dog-chair (old sofa chair, covered in dog hair), 18 various "favorite spots" and still...

So now I'm an old dog? My hips may not be shot yet, but my need for comfort matches his. It seems in my walk down this path that after I encounter a stretching, painful growth time, it is always followed by "the circle, circle, circle" period. How many spots will I try before I eventually flop down and lick my wounds??
How long will I stay down?

The great part about Lucky is that he follows his master from room to room. So after he has gone through this entire process, if I get up to leave the room, he's right there beside me, pain and all; a true friend, a real follower.

INK

some old and some new

... And then I found myself in the chair at "Susuin Ink" on Tuesday of this week. Mark and Dale were by my side, distracting me with small talk. The center figures in the tattoo, arms raised in worship on either side of the cross was installed in my skin in early '04. (Jacqui has the same design on her back and sat in the same chair immediately after me on this Tuesday. She winced, cried perhaps(?) but was an AWESOME subject without flinching or moving. GO GIRL!!). The artist/technician is a man named Auric Goldfingers. Like me, he is a follower of Christ, not to mention just being a way cooool guy and EXCELLENT tattoo-er.

The process took 3 hours as he went over over the "old" ink and added the NEW EMBELLISHED DESIGN also. The experience involves more than just physical pain. There is a release of endorphins which is described as:

["Any of a group of peptide hormones that bind to opiate receptors and are found mainly in the brain. Endorphins reduce the sensation of pain and affect emotions"]

Along with the pain, came a strange intoxication of the senses, a euphoria that is unlike anything I've ever experienced. The dictionary describes euphoria, "a feeling of well being, esp. an exaggerated one having no basis in truth or reality". So, there's this guy with a needle, maybe even a group of needles very close to each other moving in and out of your skin VERY rapidly feeling as if someone is cutting you with a knife... but you feel HAPPY, perhaps a little LOOPY. You still feel the pain but now it's different, like getting socked in the stomach. ( Did you lose air and gasp for breath? Of course you did... Now put a couple of pillows over your stomach and take another shot into you solar-plexes. Still hurts a little, but you didn't lose your air.)

For me, it is a crucifixtion of my flesh, a passage to a greater understanding that my mind and more importantly the Spirit in me has a much greater power over that flesh of mine.

I can also describe it as a "marker" to some. It defines a time in your life by putting an exclamation point on it. A time you can look back on and remember each element of that period in your life in vivid, crystal detail.

I've been told that each person is different in how they react to the experience. Each tattoo has it's own story. What is/was yours?... Why would or wouldn't you ever do this? Please comment and we'll talk...

snakes shed their skin... how often, i'm not quite sure, probably different for each specie, but i know this: they need to do it because they are GROWING and their old skin becomes too small to fit into. during this shedding period, they are at their most vulnerable since they may still be partially trapped in their old skin. predators could be lurking to pounce at any time. once out, the new skin is very soft and they are again susceptible to the enemy... however they can move, slither, whatever...

(it feels good to be in a new skin, maybe still shaking off the old... still vulnerable to attacks... but being able to move, dance, drum, sing and shout out to the One who deserves the thanks...)

THEY CALL ME LIGHTMAN!!!

Why are we obsessed with super-heroes? We are... they keep making new movies about them and now there's a t.v. show where people dress up in their favorite super hero costumes. Me... just call me LIGHTMAN for now. Tonight, I'll be heading out to the drive-in movie complex to fill in for my friend Jeff whose celebrating 17 yrs of marriage...YEAH!... with his wife Toni for a weekend away from kids and responsibilty. You see, a few years ago Jeff started a hobby; really a way to supplement his income, by selling glow sticks at the drive-in. Believe it or not, it's quite lucrative.

So, imagine if you can, a man with a dark apron, upon which 100 glowing flourescent light sticks(neon pink, blue, green) protrude his chest, flairing out to the sides, a cowbot hat with three blinking lights (red, blue, yellow), a blinking mouthpiece (red, blue, green, yellow), a rope light necklace streaming light around his neck (red, blue, green)... walking eerily in the twilight, passing children and adults as they stare and wonder... "LIGHTMAN!!" They scream. "HEY, are you selling those" or "COME OVER HERE!" or "MOM, DAD, CAN I HAVE ONE?".... and the frenzy begins...

One of my drum-heroes is none other than Neil Peart of Rush (all the prog-rockers in d'house say "YEAH!"). And strangely it's not for the most obvious reason, his drumming. Sure he's up there as far as one of the best in his field, however that's not why I chose him... In August of 1997, his nineteen-year-old daughter, Selena, was killed in an auto accident. Then within 10 months time, his wife Jackie died of cancer. One year later, crushed but not abandoned, he climbed upon his BMW R1100GS motorcycle and proceeded on a journey of over 55,000 miles from Quebec to Alaska, along the coast to Mexico and Belize then eventually back home over a period of 14 months. Along the way he journaled his setbacks and progress in healing. He said in an interview in Modern Drummer (Sept.'02)...

"The only thing I was motivated to do was travel, to just go down the road every day to see what was over the next hill or around the next corner. Hope was the only muscle at work then, the hope that maybe something would come up. I kept saying to myself, 'something will come up, something will come up'. It's probably the only thing that kept me alive."

He went on to say that after alot of time had passed, life became beautiful and precious again.

Hope... sometimes it's the only muscle at work.

I don't know what's over that next hill Lord, but I 'll go and see... maybe something will come up?...