A Gift Unwasted

A little over seven months ago, I wrote a blog post that reached farther than I ever thought it would. It was about a man that I had never met, but that I wish I would have. What initially caught me about his story was the headline making tragedy that he was involved in. However, what mainly grabbed my attention was the unspoken parts. The parts that I could merely observe from afar. I saw a man who knew life in it's fullest, and I immediately gravitated towards that.

Today is my birthday. I knew that it would be when I went to sleep last night. I knew it was when I woke up this morning, greeted by my dog's ever present desire to go outside. And yet, I wasn't met with the same self-sustaining excitement that I usually experienced on my birthday. Yes, this year is different. I am in a different city with my new wife, and those things do make me truly happy. I don't know if it was the fact that I knew I had to work on my birthday or the fact that I am getting older, but for some reason, today just seemed like any other day. And then I realized something.

That's wrong.

That's wrong because today isn't just like any other day. I have been battling with this thought in my own head so much lately. Every morning we wake up, go through our routine, sometimes dreading what is coming in our day or week, and we begrudgingly pull ourselves out the door. Why? Why am I treating each day like it has to bear a striking resemblance to the day before it? The Bible says that the Lord's compassion or mercies are renewed every morning. That tells me that each day is full of new potential for a lot of things!

What I struggle with the most is that each morning doesn't seem very different from the next morning. I think a lot of people struggle with that. There are so many elements in each of our days that run together or seem so similar. The same house, the same car, the same job, the same people, the route, and the same issues. We quickly become a people of routine even if we didn't intend to be. It's like those starter train sets that just come with the curved track pieces. There is a whole lot of fascination at first because you're watching a miniature train inside your own house! But then it gets boring pretty quick because you realize you're just watching it go in circles again and again. And again. And...

And therein lies my little epiphany. Who said I have to go in circles? 

The answer is nobody. No one ever said that my life has to be routine, droll, and boring. No one ever said that just because certain elements in your day might be the same, that means that you have no right to make each day new. Yes, there are certain things about life that do not change or cannot change, yet there are several things in each of our lives that can change and should change.

I'm not trying to start a sermon. I'm not trying to inspire or incite everyone, but if I do, than that's awesome. I guess I am mainly speaking to me. Out of anyone that I know, I am the one that needs to hear this or realize this the most. Despite the consistency of daily routines, I can choose to make each day a new adventure. And so I will. I want to be a writer. I have so many writing projects started, but nothing is finished. I think it's about time I finished one. Or two. Or all of them. I'll let you know how that goes.

My life is not going to be boring.

I am going to know life in it's fullest.

For Aaron Christian Buda

                Yesterday, around 8 AM, an accident occurred on Eastbound 496 that backed up traffic in either direction for miles, eventually closing down the Eastbound lanes. Six cars were involved in the accident. One of those cars caught fire mere seconds after the accident. The driver of that car, Aaron Christian Buda, did not survive.

He was 24.

                Aaron was married to Jennifer. I do not know Jennifer, and I did not know Aaron. I cannot even begin to imagine the intense pain that Jennifer feels right now, or the panic that struck the moment she heard the news that her husband of only two years had passed away.

                Whenever I hear news like this, I automatically become an investigator. I did it with 9/11 and the Newtown tragedy. I want to see what I can find out about the actual people in these news stories, since all the news seems to give us is cold facts and tragedy. And that’s fair. The news sources are supposed to inform us of the events that go on in our world and, unfortunately, those events have not been very blissful as of late.

                Here is what I found out: Aaron was a fun loving young man. From what I could gather, he and his wife had a very happy and loving relationship. In his wife’s profile picture, the couple is shown participating in what looks to be a charity event. From the comments on Aaron’s profile picture, it seems as if Aaron was surrounded by a very loving and warm family. In that profile picture, Aaron has a look of joy on his face and is holding a coffee mug, which is fitting because Aaron worked for Biggby.

                Aaron and Jennifer were married on October 30, 2012. That’s exactly 27 months ago. To me, that doesn’t seem like much time at all. I’m sure it doesn’t seem like much time to Jennifer either. However, to her, I am sure those 27 months are filled with unforgettable memories and moments. Contrarily, I am sure that these next few weeks, months, and maybe years will be filled with mourning and tears that will only be dried by the memory of Aaron.

                I, myself, am getting married this May. In the past, my investigation into these life stories has been droll and brief. However, this time, I caught myself. I was crying. Like I said, I didn’t know Aaron, or Jennifer, or anyone in their families, and I don’t pretend to. I was simply another driver caught in traffic on a Tuesday morning. My curiosity got the best of me, and I began waiting for them to identify the driver. As soon as his name was released, I logged onto Facebook and immediately found Aaron. And I found Jennifer. Seeing them smile together made this news story different to me. I was suddenly struck with sadness for what this poor woman is now forced to endure. And yet, I was hit with a bit of happiness in realizing that she is enveloped in such a loving family.

                There is not a single one of us in this life that knows the exact moment of when we will pass away. Aaron didn’t know. Jennifer was not preparing herself for Aaron to die that morning. But they knew love. Love for one another, the love of family, and the love of the Lord. I am very grateful that I took the moment to see that. My heart breaks for Jennifer and the Buda family, but I am comforted to know that they have each other. And I will think of them in the months ahead as I move toward my own commitment of life and love.

I hope you will, too.

The Wrong Move

I just made the wrong move. I woke up this morning and I told myself that I was going to workout. Was I going to run? No. It was snowing/raining outside. I was going to ride a stationary bike. The weather was great inside. I had a slight stomachache in the morning, but it took care of itself, so I figured I'd be fine. The time came for me to hop on that bike. I was about to head into the basement when it hit me: I can't exercise on an empty stomach. "That would be insane", I reasoned.  So I reached for the Doritos and Sunny D.

Perfect.

Needless to say, I did not feel like exercising afterwards. I felt heavy, as if I had added one more unnecessary burden to an already insurmountable weight. I felt like a failure. There wasn't any motivation to be found at that point. So, after a few moments, I made another wrong move: I gave up.

I'm not one who enjoys getting my butt kicked. I will never truly understand those people who love to "feel the burn." I was always taught that you avoid anything that burns, like hot stoves and heart burn. I've always viewed workouts like P90X and Insanity as crazy, and the people who participated in them, even crazier. To me, there has never really been anything truly attractive about attempting to move my body until it hurts.

Here is another wrong move I've made: I've lost sight of the goal. And in reality, that is worse than Doritos and giving up. The ease of comfort food and letting go of a workout routine clouded my vision. This realization hurt more than the realization of temporary failure. Because at that point, I had no longer just let myself down, I had let someone much more important down.

That hurts.

I may not enjoy getting kicked in the butt by a workout or "feeling the burn", but I far less enjoy the pain of disappointing another. And that... that I cannot stand for. So, now, I am choosing to make the right move. Not just for me. I am doing it for something greater than myself.

I will feel the burn.