According to Sam and Jim Commenting on things that irk us off, make us laugh out loud or just seem too weird too believe According to Sam and Jim: Be still my poor scared heart

Monday, August 22, 2011

Be still my poor scared heart

My Cheerios cereal box this morning asked me, “What makes your heart beat a little faster?”

I know the answer General Mills is looking for, is that their cereal makes my heart beat a little faster, as in healthier. But in reality what makes my heart race like an over-revving Indy car engine is being scared shirtless. Okay, I was going to say that other “S” word but this is a family blog so I didn’t. And I didn’t think scared poopless had quite the same oomph, if you get my drift.

Anyway, I got to considering things that scare me – uh, you know. Sam getting real sick would be one thing. Fortunately, even though I don’t feed him Cheerios, he’s pretty healthy. Primal scream driving, which involves scaring yourself just about to death as you take a curve too fast and you contemplate crashing into the bottom of a deep canyon, makes my heart beat faster, but doesn’t really scare me – uh, you know.

One thing that scared me – uh, you know, when I was a cop (years ago), was nearly becoming involved in a gunfight. I was dispatched to back up some other guys who were under fire and I was definitely scared. Luckily, the fight was over before I arrived. An Oakland cop and a CHP guy died in the shootout and a couple of bad dudes died too. I thanked God mightily that I hadn’t wound up laying on a slab in the morgue that night. I can only imagine how military people feel when they’re anticipating a gunfight. I’m pretty sure they’re scared - uh, you know, at least the first time.

I know a lot of people turn to God when they’re scared. Me too. But it would scare me even more to think God might someday turn his back on me and tell me, “I never knew you,” because I didn’t acknowledge knowing him other times in my life. I suppose I could paste one of those “No Fear” stickers on my car windows, but it’s stupid to pretend you have no fear.

Something else that scares me – uh, you know, is the thought of losing my mobility, of having my feet and/or legs amputated or becoming, say a quadriplegic because of an accident. And I’m not sure I could ever get over my anger at being so immobilized. One minute you’re jumping a horse over a fence; the next minute you’re blowing air into a tube to move your wheelchair. Worse yet, it would really scare the you-know-what out of me if I accidentally crippled or killed a pedestrian or bicyclist with my truck.

Speaking of anger leads me possibly to my biggest scare: that would be if I turned out so bitter because my life didn’t turn out exactly as I had planned, that I spent my latter years lashing out at everybody and everything because I felt cheated. I’ve seen that happen to people who have suffered harsh disappointments and they just won’t let go of their anger and resentment.

I don’t want to live life being scared or angry. Better to enjoy each day as it comes and find something for which to be thankful. Sam and I say three bags of poop on being scared. WOOF!

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