FaceTiming Jesus

I was telling MR about how my son and his best friend can spend all day together at camp and still want to come home and FaceTime with each other. I said that I love that they enjoy each other so much that they never seem to get enough. MR said that’s how we should be with Jesus. That’s the kind of relationship that we should have.

I don’t know why, but at that exact moment I imagined FaceTiming with Jesus, and I started laughing. I mean wouldn’t it be awesome to be able to just call Jesus on the phone and talk to Him whenever you wanted?! I realize that He’s in Heaven, but He’s God, so He doesn’t need to be physically on this Earth to show up on my phone. And also because He’s God, He wouldn’t be limited to only FaceTiming one person at a time. Anyone could enjoy a conversation with Him, but how many people would? And how many people would avoid Him, because it’s easier to live life your own way and keep Jesus at a distance, all the while merely saying that you’re a Christian.

MR said that if we had that kind of access to Jesus, then what would we have to look forward to in the afterlife. More Jesus! I mean can you truly ever have enough of Jesus?! I mean the disciples had three years with Him, and you’re telling me that they didn’t want more?! I don’t even care that He might say things that aren’t always easy for me to hear. I’d still love to be able to FaceTime Him every day. Prayers are great, but sometimes you’d like to see His face looking back at you.

White Stripes - Part 2

Well, I’ve been busting my butt to be ready for my other two stripes, but class after class has gone by without my instructor even asking to see my one steps. So, tonight, I approached him to ask when I could do that. He agreed to test me tonight, so the entire class stopped to watch me do it. Nothing like being the star of the show to get my performance anxiety going full boar. I did fine, and I earned my second stripe, but it all was diminished by some bad news that has upset me all evening.

During one of our sparring sessions today, I threw a round kick, which my partner tried to block. Unfortunately, it was a very good, strong kick, and she blocked it incorrectly. She tried to push it with her hands, and my foot bent her hand back into her wrist. After class, I found her with ice on her wrist, and I was devastated. I know it was an accident, but I don’t like to see people getting hurt, especially if I’m the one doing it. So, it’s been hard to enjoy the success of getting my stripe or actually doing really well during the sparring, because Miss Pixie got hurt.

Maybe I was being too aggressive. I mean, it is practice after all. I guess I just don’t believe in doing things halfway. You should train like you’re going to fight. Besides, I feel like I have something to prove, like I need to earn my place in this class. Why else would a white belt be allowed in a class of black belts? But maybe I have them on a pedestal. Maybe they aren’t as experienced or as good as I imagine. Maybe they just went through the motions and did enough to get here. To be honest, a lot of them probably just got their black belt two months ago. So, maybe I’m not really that far behind. I don’t feel so much like a white belt, except that I have to do white belt testing. I feel like I’m training like a black belt. I do all of the same drills, exercises, and techniques that they do. And in some cases, I do them better even. But maybe I need to lighten up a little. Not everyone is there to be a warrior like me. Some people are in it for the exercise. Some are in it for the discipline. So, they won’t go at it as hard as I do. I know there’s a couple of people who will meet me at my level. I guess I’ll reserve my best for them. And I’ll pray for Miss Pixie.

UPDATE: Miss Pixie ended up being fine. She was a little sore over the weekend, and she has a little green bruise on her wrist, but that’s the worst of it…thank God! She had decided not to text this cycle after all, so our inadvertent accident didn’t derail her in the least.

White Stripes

Tonight in class, I unexpectedly got my first stripe for my form. I just need to get two more for my two one steps and overall form to be cleared to test in August. I was ecstatic. I wasn’t even expecting my instructor to be giving out stripes this early. But I guess I did it so well already that he felt like I’d earned it. All that practicing at home is paying off. I’m riding an adrenaline high tonight!

Compliment Cards

I hate that we live in a world where a man can’t give a compliment to a woman without it being taken the wrong way. What is so wrong with noticing someone and the effort they put into their appearance? Why does that automatically have to translate into the assumption of flirting? Women put a great deal of time and effort to look and smell nice. You would think that they’d want to be noticed for it. And not for some sleazy guy to ogle them as a sex symbol, but to really be seen and appreciated without any ulterior motives. And I’m tempted to do this all the time, but I’m afraid that it will be misconstrued. Why can’t we admire beautiful things in our world just for being beautiful?

So, a few years ago, I thought up this idea for little cards that I could carry around with me. And each one would compliment a certain feature. They might say something like, “You may not hear this enough, but your eyes are absolutely beautiful. And I just wanted you to know that, without any other expectations or motives. I hope you have a lovely day.” Or they might comment on their hair, or how nice they smell, or a dozen other things. And I could hand them out to women I come across and then simply walk away without a word. Maybe in that way I could spread a little happiness in the world without making people feel uncomfortable.

Fighting Black Belts

Tonight, I was thrown into sparring in my martial arts class. I had done combat training before where you beat each other with foam bats, but this was straight up fists and feet. The only issue is that I was fighting black belts with a lot more experience. Heck, I didn’t even know the rules of engagement. I thought it was fair game as long as you don’t hit someone in the groin. That is, of course, not allowed. But neither is punching someone in the head or hitting them anywhere below the waist. Oddly enough, though, you can kick someone in the head…which I find strange. My teacher explained it as, “What’s taekwondo without kicking someone in the head?” I guess that’s the best answer I can expect.

So, I went into my first bout with zero expectations. I mean I’ve been fighting for all of three weeks. I assumed I’d be decimated. But my natural fighting instincts kicked in, and maybe a little bit of those martial arts movies that my brother and I were so fond of growing up. And I found myself blocking kicks and throwing counter punches. I still lost, but I put up a better fight than anyone gave me credit for. At one point, I even blocked a kick and then while my opponent was off-balanced, I knocked him completely to the floor. That move got a loud “Oooh!” from the onlookers. It’s not strictly legal, but at this point, I’m more of a street fighter. My opponent got his revenge though. On the next go-round, he feigned a kick and then punched me straight in the chest…hard. I took it, but I felt it. His follow-up move was to kick me in the head. I guess there was no more Mr. Nice Guy after I took him to the ground in front of everyone.

My next bout was against a much younger, skinnier opponent, but his kicks were quicker. I knew that I didn’t have the skills yet to go toe-to-toe with these guys, so my strategy was to work on blocking whatever they threw at me without backing down. And then sprinkle in some punches and kicks along the way, hoping to get lucky. It worked pretty well. He couldn’t kick up to my head, so most of his shots were at chest or waist level. I was blocking most everything he threw at me. At one point, I even caught his foot. He stood there hopping around on one leg, so I threw down his foot and immediately threw a kick of my own. But he was a one-trick pony, because he did the exact same thing again, and I caught his foot a second time. This time I flung his leg away, which threw him off balance, and he stumbled, catching himself with his hands on the floor. I felt like that round was more even.

My third bout was against my teacher, a seventh-degree black belt. He was better at giving me pointers on how to improve. I didn’t really score any points on him. I could tell that he was taking it easy on me. But I did do pretty well at blocking his kicks…at least until he went over my block and tagged me in the head…multiple times. On one occasion, he kicked me and I blocked, and without putting his foot down, he kicked me again in rapid succession, and I blocked again. And without putting his foot down, he kicked me a third time, flinging his foot up into my head.

It was maybe the best class so far. Even being pummeled, I had a blast. My son is jealous that I get to fight while he has to just do forms and exercises. But honestly, I think it has to do more with the fact that I’m in class with a bunch of black belts. One of the guys even told me, “Stick with us. We’ll make you into a really badass white belt.” I guess it’s like they say, if you want to be the best, then you have to beat the best. It would be nice to have someone else at a similar level though, even just to mix it up occasionally. If I could pick anyone to do this with, it would be my brother. It was always our childhood dream to be martial arts masters, like our movie heroes. I think he’d enjoy it as much as I do.

UPDATE: WH, the retired police officer in my men’s group that used to teach tactical training to police officers, told me tonight that he agreed with my approach to knocking people down and incapacitating the threat, even if they didn’t consider it legal from a taekwondo perspective. I took that as a ringing endorsement!

UPDATE UPDATE: One of the guys in my martial arts class asked me tonight if I was a boxer. He said that they were talking about me after my sparring session on Monday, and I guess my style indicated boxer over martial artist. I presume that was because of my penchant for blocking and counter punching over straight up kicking. They don’t realize that the formerly pulled muscle in my thigh is still really tender, and I don’t trust it yet. So, I’m reluctant to throw a bunch of kicks. Plus, I’m trying to mix it up. My style next time might be completely different. I might throw only kicks. I might switch between right-handed and left-handed. I don’t want them to figure out how to fight me. But the funniest part is that they were talking about me. I’m not sure if it was good or bad, but at least they’re talking!

Little Hugh

I remember this one time in college when the fire alarm went off at two o’clock in the morning. I was living in the dorms at the time with my roommate, and before I even had a chance to grab a shirt and flip flops, the hall monitor was banging on the door. My roommate, who was notorious for never leaving the dorm without socks or a hat, took his time to get properly attired. So, we found ourselves in relatively good shape as we made our way outside. Not everyone was so lucky. There were lots of guys in their underwear. One guy was in only a towel, still wet from a shower. But the best had to be the guy who came downstairs with not one, but two smoking hot girls wearing nothing but his t-shirts. Despite breaking several dorm rules by having girls in his room after hours, he stood there completely unashamed, arms wrapped around them as they snoozed on his shoulders. But honestly, what man is going to deny that guy his ménage à trois when almost every man was looking at him with envy?!