Fat Daddy

Frustration mounts.

You probably didn’t come here to get my take on the latest shenanigans coming out of our nation’s capital. I’ll probably just refrain at least in this format. I’ll give you a hint, though. I am a fan of the Revolution that began this country.

A big, big fan.
But I digress.

Frustration mounts.
I am surrounded by frustrated people.
And not just in the federal government.

We have a new mayor. The city paid the lawsuits as a result of his philandering. He was then caught taking a bribe by the FBI. He’s out and going to jail.

Our county government has problems also. Somebody may yet go to jail as well.
And then there is our school district.
If I told you, you would find it hard to believe.

Not only does frustration abound, craziness does too.

For a long time, I wanted to be a politician. But then I realized I would for the most part either have to be a liar, cheater, schemer, swindler, or manipulator… if not, then at the very best, I would be in a tiny small minority.

Yeah.
I am probably painting with an overly wide brush.
But you’d have to do the hard work of proving me wrong to change my mind.

At this point, I’d do better to just call them idiots and leave it at that.

Frustration mounts.
For many, it is a slowly seething pot that is about to reach it’s boiling point.

I could easily volunteer for president of the frustration club–at least for the branch that deals with the federal government.

While I am hopping mad at lots of stuff going on in this country, it’s politics and governance is not by far my biggest frustration.

Want to take a guess where or in whom my greatest frustration lies?
Hey God, my greatest frustration is you!

Far from intending anything disrespectful or blasphemous, I imagine God saying, “I know, son, I know…”
And yet frustration mounts.

I wrote the other day about hanging on.
It was good advice for me to hear.
Apparently, I still need the reminder.

But the truth is my patience is wearing thin.
And I am tired. Very tired.
I keep thinking about and asking myself how much longer will I be frustrated and stymied? How many more lessons do I have to learn until some of the old me can be comfortably a part of the new me? How long, God, how long?

Frustration mounts.
As a result, tonight, I am self-medicating.

Tonight I am writing with my drug of choice right beside me.
Yes, I did say drug, but it’s not what you think…

I am frustrated.
I am impatient.
I am weary.
But I am growing full and momentarily contented as the stack of fig newtons slowly dwindles away chased by a beautiful glass of cold, cold milk!

And I am smiling with a memory of my sweet Cole… I can clearly hear him say mischievously as the cookies are devoured… You fat, daddy. You fat.

Maybe so, son.
Maybe so.

Frustration mounts.
Relax and have a cookie.
Chances are, you can’t do much about it anyway!

(Somebody will probably have to remind me of this tomorrow…)

Les Ferguson, Jr.

Where Eagles Fly

I am often told my writing is raw, honest, and full of emotion. Most of the time those that tell me also thank me for it.

I also hear from people who tell me how painful and hard it is to read, but read it they must.

Sometimes I think honesty is a trait of another time and place. We often pull our punches. We often tell people exactly what they want to hear.

I know some good people who would love for me to write today and tell you of all the wonderful things in my life… tell you about my successes and blessing… let you know of all the joy and happiness that has invaded my life.

And, if the truth be told completely, there are wonderful things, wonderful people in my life. In some places, in some areas I see successes, I recognize blessings. I am thankful that I do know joy and happiness–I am often able to easily find reasons for joy and happiness.

But if the truth were to be told completely, I’d have to tell you–even though it may not be what you want to hear–that there are still dark places, dark things I wrestle with.

Truthfully?

I am tired.
Weary.
Frustrated.

A lot.

Add to that a cup or two of anger here and there and it is a potent mix.

I don’t understand why it seems the wicked prosper.
Why can’t I have some of that?

I don’t have a clue why life has to be so crazy hard at times.
Is it too much to ask for a day or two every once in a while on Easy Street?

My patience with God often gets stretched thin.

Here’s my truth: I am fully ensconced in just such a time.
I am exasperated with the constant sense of having to scratch and claw.
I hate feeling desperate and unsure.
I am so ready for God to work in my life in bigger and better ways.
So ready.

So this morning, in the absence of that, I did run therapy.
Three faster than normal miles on some dusty gravel roads.
And I listened to music.

Robbie Williams crooned…
When I’m feeling weak and my pain walks down a one way street…

Yep. I get that. Perfect words to encapsulate my frame of mind.

But, I didn’t need any auditory reminders this morning. So with apologies to Mr. Williams, that just wasn’t going to work. I needed music to groove/ move me faster–and help me out of my funk. And being that I am an unrepentant hard rock fan, I turned to the Red Rocker instead.

My musician Sammy Hagar can usually move me. Today he did. I like a bunch of his work, but my all time favorite and one of my most listened to songs is called Eagles Fly.

Sunday morning 9 a.m. 
I saw fire in the sky 
I felt my heart pound in my chest 
I heard an eagle cry 


Now I’m alive I can breathe the air 
Feel the wind, smell the earth in the air 
I watch an eagle rise above the trees 
Project myself into what he sees 


Hey- 
Take me away 
Come on and fly me away 
Take me up so high 
Where eagles fly 


I often dream I sail through the sky 
I’ve always wished I could fly 
The simple life of a bird on the wing 
Oh Lord, I could sing 


Take me away 
Come on fly me away 
Lift me up so high 
Where eagles fly 


Oh yeah- 
I’m alive, I breathe the air 
Wash the earth from my face 
I catch a glimpse of another dream 
I turn, I look but there’s no trace 


Take me away. 
Come on, fly me away. 
I wanna fly away. 
Pick me up so high 
Where eagles fly 


Oh yeah- 
Eagles fly, oh, take me away 
Eagles fly, oh, take me away 
Come on, let’s fly away where eagles fly 
Come on, fly away where eagles fly.

Sammy probably never intended for a guy like me to use his music to fight my way out of a funk.

But that’s where I am and not where I want to be, so fight I must.

Take me away. 
Come on, fly me away. I wanna fly away. Pick me up so high 
Where eagles fly…

Thank you Sammy for helping me move faster and groove on while doing it.
More importantly, thank you for reminding me of scripture…

Even youths grow tired and weary,
 and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the Lord
 will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
 they will run and not grow weary,
 they will walk and not be faint.
Isaiah 40:30-31 (NIV)

Come on God, I am so ready to soar.
How about you?

Take me away. Come on, fly me away. I wanna fly away. Pick me up so high 
Where eagles fly…

Les Ferguson, Jr.