Touchy Feely

My wife and her church friends have started a group called the "First Ladies Club". I am not sure how much praying and bible-reading they do, but I am certain there is an ample quantity of wise-cracking about the husbands. Naturally, these meetings are off limits to the husbands, and the male species in general I would imagine - although I am pretty sure there are no random guys or ex-boys vying for a chance to get in.

Not that I request it, but I am occasionally made privy to the clubs secret reports. It's mostly what you'd expect, the same complaints that women have been levying against men since the dawn of time. One husband keeps leaving the toilet seat up, some other guy is addicted to video games and sports, another one thinks farting is a bonding experience.

The fact that I am guilty of some (all) of these would certainly give me reason to resent the club, but I don't. In fact I envy my wife's club a bit. i imagine that there is something very enriching about sharing experiences with a close knit group of confidantes. The truth is I have some stuff I need to get off my chest as well. Really burning questing like why does my wife need twenty different types of shampoo and conditioner? I can replenish my entire set of hygiene products with soap, shaving cream, blades, and after shave, and she has the entire shelf of CVS stored in our bathroom. I say "our" bathroom because it's the master bathroom in our bedroom, but I succumb to the mounting battalion of gels, creams, and ointments, just two months after we got married.

The point is that men that have issues we need to discuss too. A handful of small tragedies that need to be taken out of our pockets, and shone in the light. But let's face it, no ESPN-loving, 7-iron-swinging man worth his salt will let himself be the one to write the following email:

Hey Guys -

I was just watching "Rescue Me", and it really got me to thinking that we should get together more often to talk about the real issues that are happening in our lives. I thought you guys could come over to my house this Friday and hang out. My wife has agreed to leave, but not before preparing a scrumptious assortment of chicken and pizza. We will have plenty of time to really cut loose and delve into our what's going on in each of our lives. Let me know if you guys are available.


Peace, D-Dub

Look, I know that this is one of just one of the many natural characteristic differences between men and women, but it just strikes me as sad. Of course, women will never know the sheer joy and elation of smashing your buddy's hopes and dreams in Fantasy Football, but that just doesn't seem the same, and I am not too macho to say it. Loosen up fellas. There is a time and place for Tough, and a time and place to learn from your brothers. We are all blessed with this life by God's grace, and he wants us to have fellowship with each other, just as much as he wants it with our wives, our children, and with Him.

Sandpaper

Life has a way of wearing you down. Time passes, and layers peel away like sands on a beach. Some of the departures are long overdue. Bad habits, fears and ignorance are shed joyously like the last remnants of a bad cold. But you lose the good things as well, and somewhere down the line you wonder when you stopped believing, trusting, feeling. When did you lose that innocence that makes young children glow like new stars? When did it fade away, only to be replaced by a dull film of low expectations? You look back and wonder what wave crashed along your shores and pulled those last seashells away.

These are milestones in life. You stop at a red light and pause to review where you've been, and where your going. You check the scribbled map on the palm of your hand and question whether you've followed the correct route. Were you supposed to make a left or right at that heartbreak two miles back? Is that the relationship landmark you were looking for? Do you have enough fuel to get where you're going? People often say they have no regrets but that's either a blatant untruth, or a sad state of ignorance and naïveté, for to have no regrets is to acknowledge no lessons learned. You were supposed to make a left.

The trick about these moments is what you do after. Life is blessed or broken by the decisions made when you realize that the time has come to make one. The weary of spirit find themselves fearing a hopeful future. Just more regrets to obsess over and losses to grieve. More pain, more frustration, and more sleepless nights. Gray hair and wrinkles.

Life can be so, so, so tragic, and most of the drama is in those moments. The red light. The tidal wave. The ocean will flow, the traffic will come, and you will confront another chance to hope. To be lighthearted amidst the ebb and flow, and not drown.