The Human Projectile

Public transportation here in Prague can sometimes be treacherous. I have often theorized that our particular route to school in the morning is operated by drivers in training. Training that consists of driving as fast as possible to stop lights and then slamming on brakes when the light turns red. Couple that with the nearly ninety degree turn and slides to pick up new passengers and you have all the reasons why I think they are driver's ed students.

Take last week for example. We got on the bus and were excited to find that it was nearly empty. That is very rare here this time of year. Our bus is the one that picks up all of the airport traffic so it is usually filled from window to window with tourists and suitcases. We sat down and began discussing what we needed to do that day. The bus took of like it was powered by jet fuel and hate. Our heads swing back to the g-force. (Not exactly, but pretty close.) I was just about to tell Tonya something when the slamming of the brakes began. Silly me, I had not wedged myself into the seat properly. I had forgotten to brace my legs on the seat in front of me. As the brakes slammed, I felt myself lift off the seat, surging forward. It was like a slow motion scene from a movie or something. I was thrown into the seats facing us, using my hands to break my fall. 

I was sitting in the seat facing me at this point, my face planted in the seat back and my knees in the seat bottom. I looked like someone who had been made to sit in the corner. I calmly collected myself and sat back into my seat. I was greeted by my lovely wife, who was laughing so hard she was in tears. 

And there you have it, folks. The Human Projectile.

Next week: Zombie Walk! 

The God of the Impossible

I think everyone has a point in their lives where they bump into some moment where it seems like nothing is going to work out. Things look to be impossible. There is no way over or around or even through. What do you do when you face something like that? 

As a teacher and a coach, I have had the honor of walking through the "impossible" with my students and players. From crushed dreams over a torn ligament to the simple devastation of the first time they ever got in trouble for a dress code violation, I have seen it all and then some. The beauty of facing an impossible moment with someone is that rarely is the moment actually impossible. It is only impossible because our minds are limited to only the solutions we can think of. We try to do things in only our own power and when that power runs out, the moment gains the title of "impossible." 

When I face these personal moments of impossibility in my life, I turn to scripture. Not at first, though. Typically, at first, I flail my arms about, go straight to blind panic, and curl up into a fetal position and weep softly into a comfortable pillow. It's mid-whimper when I begin to realize that I not only can't handle my problems alone, but I don't have to. It's then I remember verses like Luke 1:37, "Nothing is impossible with God." Or Hebrews 13:5 "I will never leave you nor forsake you." Then I begin to gain confidence. Then I begin to believe. Then I begin to expect God to be God. That is when He delivers: When I realize that I can't, but He can. 

My faith is not always what it should be. I try to handle things on my own way too often. I am glad though, that when I get out of the way, and let God be God, I get to give credit to Him because He has accomplished only what He can accomplish. 

My God is a God of the impossible, and I am so grateful for it.