Random thoughts...

I want some tattoos. Yes, that's right some...not one...but some.

For the first time that I can ever remember, besides my initial few months in my first IT job at the help desk, I love my job. The thing is, I am about to celebrate a year at KSBJ, and hate the thought of ever working anywhere else.

I hate fighting. I grew up around it all the time, and it has left a big imprint on my life. I wish I were different, but I'm not. I still bottle up my feelings and try not to make a big deal out of things, but then it ends up backfiring and my emotions release in a big ball. I'm working on it though, and improvement is happening.

I have so many books I want to read, that I get lost trying to read a few at a time, then feel guilty that I haven't devoted as much time in the Word.

I love my wife and children, and am so grateful to God for blessing me with the most amazing gift I could ever receive in them, and yet am so sad that I've taken them for granted way too often. But doesn't every parent/husband/wife until something bad happens?

I realize that while I do work for a real purpose now, that I attend church 99% of the Sundays each year, that I strive to better myself by reading Christian books, the Bible, talk to Christian friends about Christian topics, that I'm not much farther in my walk than I was a few years ago, and that I'm tired of all the types of Christian faiths there are.

Who cares about rapture, who cares about all the other stuff that we all debate one as Christians...Jesus came to seek and save the lost, and we are it. Live like Jesus is beside you and love love LOVE.

I'm tired of my back hurtin all the stinking time because of the 3 slipped/bulging disks in my lower back. I know if I'd lose weight that it would hurt less, but I just hate it hurting all the time. I haven't slept consistently for more than a day or two at a time, for almost 10 years now. I'm used to it for the most part, but I still hate that I dread going to bed, because it means I'll be waking up with a back that kills me. You'd think that resting would help, but no, it does the exact opposite.

I wish I could write a book. Why, I don't know, but it sounds fun. But I know I couldn't stay on topic or be focused enough to spit out something that people would actually care to read. Let alone myself.

I look back on my life and see all the stupid, idiotic mistakes I made, and pray to God that everyone has truly forgiven me, and that my children don't have to make the same mistakes or deal with others making the mistakes to them.

I pray that I haven't forgotten to forgive someone who has hurt me somehow in the past. I feel I have, but I just don't want to miss out on forgiving someone if I haven't already.

I love Houston, but miss home.

I like the ocean here for it's sounds, but long for the clean ocean like in Hawaii.

I'd love to live by the mountains, and take a hike to the top of one some day.

I'd love to visit Ireland and try out as many pubs as I could, tasting as many brews as I could.

Same with Germany.

I'd love to team up with Stan again in basketball, and relight the chemistry we had playing ball.

I'd love to meet up with Doug E Fresh and Kris and Nick for some coffee and converstation.

I'd love to have more date nights with B, so we can slow down from this crazy world and remember each other more.

I'd love to go on, but I've rambled enough for now, and now I'd love to have a peaceful night of sleep. Maybe I will. Only my back, and God, know for sure.

God bless,
E