Sunset.

There are numerous things about my job that I truly enjoy, ranging from free cookies to checking out pimp houses. There are a few things that aren’t exactly fun like driving in the midst of rush hour traffic or working during prime time TV. However, there is something that offsets that. While I’m driving 10 mph on a highway at 6pm or while I’m cursing the tenth hour of my twelve hour day, I look up.

The past two times I’ve done this, I was gritting my teeth. Well, if I was a teeth gritter I would have been. But then it’s like God said, “Slow down. Enjoy what’s going on.” And He’s got the most amazing sunsets you can have in Dallas (which never compare to west Texas sunsets), complete with the silver-lined clouds and the rays and the colors… I always think that if someone were to pain a picture exactly how it looked sometimes, no one would believe it. Sometimes the sunsets are just that surreal to me.

Today, while I was surprisingly lost heading to my last appointment (I blame Yahoo maps), I looked up. And while I was enjoying the scenery, this thought came into my mind.

“I am going to take care of you.”

And I replied with a “Huh?” and the thought repeated itself. The second go round I accepted this thought and suddenly felt so care free driving around, even if I didn’t know where I was going. Best part is that I know His promise wasn’t exclusive for tonight.

Boy, you gotta love someone more than yourself.

I was convinced to give Yellowcard’s new album one more shot. Yes, my original complaint was that it was not pop-punk and emo enough, but once I got past the rock guitar intros, I realized it was still Yellowcard. You have to enjoy music that you can scream at the top of your lungs and feel like the song’s about you. I don’t know all the words yet, but I’ve got this one line stuck in my head.

“Boy, you gotta love someone more than yourself.”

I was running late to a job this morning because that’s how I roll. Somehow I am just always late. I was running especially late and gave the lady a heads up. She did not appreciate my tardiness and let me know using the tone of her voice. I was immediately in a bad mood. How dare this lady think the world revolves around her! I made sure she knew I was running late and offered my apologies and that was not good enough — like she had somewhere more important to be. Pfft.

Then, just five minutes later, as I was turtling my way through the parking lot, some lady decides to just walk out in front of me. No nodding of the head or waving of the hand as to say, “Thanks for letting me cross!” She just took her precious time walking in front of me like my car was invisible. Not just walking, more like a trudge. Not once did her head turn to me and I thought, “Geez lady, you think it’d hurt you to pick up the pace just a little bit? I’m running late here!”

That’s when I realized I was just as selfish as my customer had been.

Today was one of those retrospective days. I had a lot of time in the car, I had Yellowcard singing meaningful things at the right times, and I got to hear from people I don’t normally see and they said things I don’t normally hear. I wouldn’t call what I’m going through a mid-mid-life crisis by any means, but I think I have been slowly trying to stop for a second and re-examine my priorities. You know how that goes. For the most part, ever since I’ve moved to Dallas, there are clearly two roads. Good road, bad road. Both lead into that crazy land of the future, something I still hate to think about. And since I hate thinking about it, I’ve been walking that fine line between the roads. But I know they have to split somewhere.

What do I want out of my life? What kind of crazy plans do I have for myself? I still don’t have an exact answer, but the general answer, I think remains the same. I don’t want to waste what I’ve got. See, I believe that I was made exactly the way I was made for a reason and each person affects another person and we’re all just one huge Domino Rally. Sure, I’ll never make a history book, but what I say and do today will affect my family, my friends, and the everyday people I encounter whether I want to acknowledge that fact or not. And so on and so forth, and if you think in the grand scheme of things, what you’re doing today is changing what some person’s life will be like a hundred years from now. That’s a lot of responsibility.

Everybody wants to be remembered. In fact, people do the craziest things to be remembered. So how do I want to be remembered? I’d love to ask my closest friends to see what they’d say about me if I died and my funeral was today. Was I simply the funny kid? Or maybe that really talented girl who played guitar and wrote a few songs. Or the girl that fixed my computer once. Honestly, if I died today and that’s all anyone had to say about me, I would kick my own face and call myself a failure. Okay, I retract the previous statement — I don’t believe you can fail at life, but I believe you can either live or truly die to self and live.

If you pick up a Bible and read I Cor 13, it seems to give a much more in-depth definition of love than Webster could ever offer. It doesn’t matter whether you believe the whole book is true, I can’t imagine anyone arguing that love isn’t kind, love gets angry and love can be rude. I mean, we’re always apologizing when we get like that and I don’t believe love should have to apologize. And if you think about who personified love in the Bible and everything He did — again, whether you fully believe this or not — either way, I don’t think many people can argue that Jesus was a selfish guy. Point to a line in the Bible that hints He ever thought of Himself over anyone save the line, “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani!” I think it’s safe to say that love is synonymous with selflessness.

Now, I know I’ll never be remembered as that girl that could walk on water. Or that Asian kid that could heal the lepers. But I guess my hope is that when people look back on my life, they can see what I have learned about love. Hopefully they will know whether I loved the world or whether I loved Christ.

Right now, I know the answer is unclear. I’ve got a lot of work to do.

(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction.

I was driving home from a very stressful day at work and the thought came into my head, “Sometimes my job is not satisfying.” I say ’sometimes’ because most of the time, it is rewarding. Fix something that was broken, turn frowns into smiles, put in your two cents so the store can make a billion… yeah, that makes for a decent job. But sometimes I can’t fix a problem, sometimes I see too many unhappy people, and sometimes try as I might, I can’t sell my two cents.

The retail business is a crazy machine. It’s a machine that ultimately lives off of numbers. I’m often convinced that the machine is actually a monster, and one that eats two things: money and people. You’ve got this crazy word called “budget” and some dude somewhere devised a formula that probably goes something like this: $ + $$ = $$$. Or, in simpler terms, “make more money.” I think the customers become side orders. I think sometimes the customer interaction is simply something that we can feel good about after making a sell. What are we really happy about? The fact that we just offered a customer the complete solution or the fact that we got a pretty penny (or a grand) from their pockets? Is there such a thing as a retail business that is customer-driven? I mean, a business that measures good business through the amount of happy people walking out of the door instead of how much money we got from the people walking out of the door? Do happy customers necessarily mean amazing numbers every day?

That’s the pickle I am forced to eat each day I’m at work. I used to be convicted about my job. Well, okay, I mean I used to be extremely convicted about my job. But then I remember I live in the United States of America. Land of the free, yes, but there are costs to living here. Don’t get me wrong, I value my job, but really… is it necessary to charge what we do? Who decided that coffee would be five bucks a cup, a movie in a movie theater is nine bucks, and fixing a computer would be three hundred bucks? Actually, who decided that we need coffee, movies, or computers?

When I get like this, I think of Africa. I think of some foreign land that I see only on television with those hungry kids with those big eyes. Those big haunting eyes that ask me if I’m having a good time watching them through my 36″ flat screen TV. I wonder if I would get satisfaction from moving to Africa and simply living a life that was totally dependent on God. Somehow I would spread the Word, feed the hungry, and make a difference while somehow managing to find a roof to live under and food to feed myself. I can only imagine how crazy people would think I was if I just up and left with what little money I had. But would it be satisfying? I can’t imagine helping others in their prime level of need to be unsatisfying. “Oh man, another day in the office. I helped feed another hungry mouth, built another house for a family, and witnessed a few people turn their lives to Jesus. It’s days like these that make me wish I had another job.”

I don’t know. I’m an American. Americans don’t just skip out on their country, leaving their families and money and gadgets behind for a country full of strangers that can’t even speak English. But what if I abandoned my self-absorption and wavering faith for my God and did exactly that? Or, even crazier, what if ten of us did so? Ten hundred? Ten thousand?

Oh, these crazy thoughts I think when I really need to go to bed.