Catching my breath

I fully intended to start today in catching my breath, by reading, blogging, and writing to renew my mind. Because of a friendly recommendation, I sat down this morning to begin reading "Post-Rapture Radio". I didn't read much, only the introduction, or prelude. I must remember the alamo...I mean the fact that this book is fiction...I think...I'm not sure. I read a lot of fiction. I read a lot. Normally, I take on three books @ a time: 1) A personal Growth book 2) A professional growth book 3) A novel (for creativity and retreat). I'm not quite sure how "Post-Rapture Radio" is to be categorized. (FYI - I'm also reading "That Hideous Strength" by CS Lewis and "More Ready Than You Realize" by Brian McLaren - regardless of what my sidebar says.)

After reading a bit, I showered, readied for work, dropped of Lindsey's water bottle (that she forgot) @ her work, and took off in the Jeep for my office, which resides in Texas, Midlothian, 200 Longbranch Rd., the village, 2nd house on the left, 2nd office. By the time I arrived, my planned day of renewal had changed.

I don't often get neverous. But I recieved a call on the way to work, that humbled me and frightened me. I was asked to help officiate the funeral for one of my best friends' brother.

I've done a wedding, and the concept of leading in a more ceremonial worship setting does not really frighten me...but funerals are different. There is such a delicacy with which the entire matter is to be handled...and this particular funeral is close to my own heart.

I can recall when my college roomate (Lawdog) claimed that I was the most-liekly-to-cry male friend of his (b/c of emotions, not necessarily b/c of pain). At the time, I agreed. Since then, something has changed in me. My sad, scared, and lonely type emotions tend to reside a bit deeper than the surface. I am still a very emotional person, but it is somewhat rare that I now cry because of life experiences...often these genres of emotional dealing are expressed more with sensibility and rationality, or instead frustration and anger.

Funerals are different. I have already felt the emotional surge as I sit watch my friend deal with the death of his brother. I think I am afraid of weak in a time that I have been asked to be strong. Though having and revealing emotions don't make us weak, I am likely to attempt to mask my emotions in this situation. How genuinely comforting can I be when I am not representing my true self?

I'm done blogging for now.