Image, what I imagine I look like might not be so...

Oh, I know none of us look like we think we do, and when we are younger we work hard to achieve that certain perfection of 'cool', in my day. After the hair and clothes are right, then the display of fine heroic aura is added for attitude, dude. And you lock that in as tough as it gets, you cling to an image of you among the monsters that dwell in your forest of fears, always battling, always calm, always in control and laughing at the danger and dirt and devil in the details...

Then you grow up, and start to grow old, settling into you and your old fashioned ways. Still wearing blue jeans and tee shirts? Knotting your ties like your daddy did. In an organization you even like the way it was in the old corps, or brown boot army, or just back in the day... but you still can't see yourself as others do, do you?  I must have gotten bit by the 'what do you see when you see me?' bug. For I found real joy in a poem from my mother, a drawing from a trainee of his Drill Sergeant, a description of me written for advancement in rank, position or because it was praise (which I only accept as real from people I deeply respected). Honest evaluation reports for work, critical notes of disappointment in my performance, skills or attitude - all views of me that I value. Quiet cutting comment from my father when he said I looked like a punk. All the real value in clearing my vision blurred by stupidity, vanity, or temporary insanity -- what do they see when they are looking at me?

 As smart as I am, well read and inquiring mind, I discounted much of my early exposure to the truth in my Biblical foundations. I didn't constantly compare and contrast my life (very central) to the lives of the folks populating the stories of long ago and far away. And I knew, as much as my family loved me, that God wasn't really paying any attention to me, He might be paying attention to my parents, or a sick sibling, but I could take care of myself and was too young to help Him. I was pretty certain that I couldn't break His Commandments, so I wasn't worthy of notice. I didn't want to think that He had made me, and my time for His purpose. I supposed that I was only a little part in the plan, a completely disposable part, and the plan would go on without my support, participation and He wouldn't miss me if I was gone.

That last idea, is where suicide starts to look like the answer. Which is completely the wrong reason to take oneself off the game board and stop playing, or living, or loving.

I once had thoughts of doing that, but then there were reasons to believe that when my life was complete here on Earth, the Lord would call me to Him. But I wasn't finished. There is more to be done, and for God having given the blessing, the plenty, the challenges and the creativity to all living creatures, it seems to be Man with the most problem accepting perfect life.

I once wrote a story about Jake, that God had created to give the best life to of all modern men. And every blessing and all the perfect moments that God gave him, Jake would mess it up, and miss out. Now Jake kept trying, and he got pretty good at his life, still God would be there with the perfect woman, the perfect job, the perfect family and each time, Jake would mess it up in a hurry to get the next best thing or on to make his life just the best. Jake did finally meet a fine woman, married, had a family, provided for them and loved them as they grew into the world on its way to wonders. God sighed and kept giving Jake more blessings to make it all better, but Jake was very independent and his life was centered and focused, and he knew what he wanted and worked so hard to get it. Then finally, he died, which is where Jake's story would end, except that Jake had a fine funeral planned and paid for, nice monument, sad but also happy in his memory family and friends... You have heard that your life will pass before you as you come to the end, and having been in places I never wanted to go, I do know that my thoughts are often of places and things I would rather be doing... so in Jake's story, he dies and his life passes before him, as He is giving Jake His final judgment. Yes, Jake got to see where the Lord had given him the best of everything, and Jake had missed the gifts so lovingly given.        Of course, it isn't an autobiographic tale, but it is every man's, isn't it?

Well, I will go mow the yard and finish reloading some 30-06 today. Still wondering what they all see when they lookin' at me... you lookin' at me?