“Where you going Say Bay?”“Just putting air in my tires. Do you need any air in your tires?”“I little bit, but I got hundre-I got a hundred and fifteen pounds per square inch. That little pump won’t do it for me."
Just
then, a good friend: one who wore not a windbreaker or a weather resistant
material – but one who wore just a short sleeve near eight at night in the
midst of winter – came by and opened the front door. I asked him, “Do you have
any wise words?”
He
repeated the question aloud to himself and told me, “Spend life making
memories, not regrets.”
Up to the honesty that
is, I spent the hour before on a couch in the warm-lit room of my good friend.
He came to Corvallis when I did: one and a half years ago. He will graduate in
spring weeks and will be onto life outside of school. We sat and discussed,
relaxed and gathered. I told him about my own pursuit for what I want and how
it compares to dialing back in the process to be a variable for the equations
of life that roll around me all the time.
I can be that multiple
to make an impact, the salt: light of the city on a hill. I have been to the
end of myself a few times before and was never impressed by it. Rather, my own
glory melts in comparison to the increase of life around me in my sacrifice. In
the night, full of thoughts that wander, I am happy where God has brought me.
Eternity is far from over, but this is a good start.
