My Selfishness

My heart is heavy this evening. How could I be, how can I be so selfish. I have been so selfish so many times before, each time wishing my heart not to be broken. It is my fault among faults. I have sit here thinking only inward when there are so many problems in this world that need my prayers more than my own.

Why, Lord, must there be this pain of my friends, when I am here wishing to rid my own? If it is best to have the happiness of my friend, without the happiness of my own, then grant them my joy, my prayers, and my hopes. Give the Grace you have bestowed to me instead to them as their own.

My heart is heavy this evening, but the day of tomorrow seems so bright. Rid me of my selfishness, O Lord. Grant me your strength, O Lord.

Stepping into the Unknown

It certainly appears, to me at least, that I am just a little bit better with relationships than I am with Salsa dancing. It should have been a good time this evening...the Salsa dancing and the conversation. Yet, there was an air in the room, much thicker than the smoke that filled the restaurant. It was a haze that I could not cross. It was supposed to be a better day, and yet...it wasn't.

How do I wish this haze would be removed. I long for the day of a clear sky and an open heart. Until then, I must make out of lemons lemonade and do the best with gifts the Lord has given me. I must always remember to be thankful for the gifts I already had before looking to greener pastures.

If it only was not so hard. If only...

The Comforter

Sing out, O heavens, and rejoice, O earth, break forth into song, you mountains. For the LORD comforts his people and shows mercy to his afflicted. But Zion said, "The LORD has forsaken me; my Lord has forgotten me." Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you. See, upon the palms of my hands I have written your name; your walls are ever before me.

--Isaiah 49:13-16

It is through the Lord that we gain all our strength. With His Grace, I ask for the strength to accept His will. My heart wanders, but His Love remains. He has not forgotten me, nor my brother or sister in need. I pray that I may be an instrument of His will to others so that they may see His love in their lives, no matter how deep it may be buried.

Let Your love be the Pearl of Great Price, Lord. Let us fail in our weak attempts at perfection. However, I thank you, Lord, for You comfort me in my times of need. I must always remember the comfort of Your love, the only true comfort one may find in this world...or the next.

Hearing the Call

The past weekend has been a blessing amid blessings. It was a fortunate quick vacation to visit family rarely seen and surprisingly to find myself among the chaos of a semester.

My inadequacies seem ever present in self-reflection, but it is my human nature to focus on them. My emotions should be more clear-cut. I falter to the wind, trying to establish a firm footing. If only my emotions were as firm as my faith, such is my prayer.

Again, this weekend resonated in my mind after returning to College Station. All the visiting, the family--all the younger cousins present amid the older generation of my father with his cousins and siblings and of the eldest generation of my grandmother and her sisters. The family reunion was the representation of three family generations amid the farm fields of Miles, TX.

Especially since the summer, which was started by the wedding of two good friends and the ordination of a local deacon (now priest), I have searched for what I am called to be. It certainly gets no more basic than that, and for me it has become a maze of sorts.

Am I called to a vocation in the priesthood, or am I called to married life? This past weekend, the Mass celebrated in Miles during the reunion, was celebrated by Father Bhaskar, who is the parish priest for three parishes out in rural West Texas. I know there are more desperate parishes throughout the world, but these parishes have little priestly representation, after so many years of giving so much to the Church through vocations, are being laid to the wayside.

Much is the case in rural east-central Texas, between Austin and Houston, in the Diocese of Austin and Diocese of Victoria. There are many rural parishes that if there were more priests, more active participation and likely priestly vocations would follow. What has today's culture done to the priesthood, or better yet, what has the "spirit" of Vatican II done to the Catholic Church in the United States? It is as though the changes in the '70's muddied something that was so pure. So much is there to be upheld, yet human error dashes the proverbial foot of the Church Faithful against the stone. Surely, this diluted group of noble men and women--the religious of the Catholic Church--is not destined to be a lamp hidden beneath a basket. Surely the Lord does not provide less than is needed for the Faithful, so I must remain optimistic for the future of the Church.

And so I am unsure of my calling. I see my younger cousins--their mother expecting again in four months--and yet I see the noble parish priest, with what seems an overwhelming load, a "Sign of Contradiction" of sorts. My heart tells me of desire for family and yet my mind sees the needs of the Church. Things are best heard in silence, and I am sitting in the silence trying to hear the Lord's voice amid the deafening silence. I pray for an answer.

When Love Is Love and When It Isn't

Attraction is a fickle thing, but that is the "love" poets and storytellers often focus on and speak of—the emotion of the moment. It is beyond that fleeting emotion that we must look to find the true Love, something that truly remains. Yet, in all things human, emotion is always behind it. With emotion I composed the following verses, which reflected a hardened heart:

Soliloquy for the Heart
Oh, how does my heart speak,
As a worn rug that is trodden upon.
No rest or comfort given to it
In it's long journey for a companion,
A companion that is but a mere mirage,
Far off in the distance but never far enough.

Love plays cruel tricks, tricks of deception.
Love's vicious cycle of attachment and detachment continues still,
Resolving itself to tormenting hearts such as mine.
Now the pangs of my heart have returned again,
Calling desperately out for affection,
For Love made anew.

It is making love anew that I am called to do, as I reassess my past thoughts. In the closing of my thoughts above, the Love I mean is agape love, which is the kind of love that is for all men--even our enemies. This is the love that should be made anew. The "love" I spoke before this is a heart-filled emotion that, as an emotion, comes and goes...it is not the true love. We crave and must have this agape love to truly be in full communion with Christ.

Love is sacrifice. This is self-evident in Christ's love. And so we, too, must be selfless in our love as Christ was in His.

It is humbly through Christ's sacrificial love that I look for the forgiveness for my past transgressions and the Grace to continue in the Lord's blessing of friends who know the difference and still forgive.

When the Lights Go Out in Aggieland...

...Business picks up at Northgate!
...Classes are canceled!
...People actually say HOWDY!

Why the hell don't the lights go out more often?

The Propensity to Linger...and Other Things

While there is such a tiring strain caused by my drive to succeed this semester, it is truly amazing how the Lord presents a calming path before me. There is both struggle and success and yes, both can coexist in the same time and space, albeit almost in a miraculous manner.

I have been busy, of which I have no doubt about, but I have also had the propensity to linger these past few weeks. I have conferred with friends about this, and I have pinned it down to an excess amount of inertia. You may ask why in the world I am talking about inertia in these circumstances. Simply put: much to the chagrin of physicists everywhere the inertia I'm feeling is of the quantitative form. Being around this campus after these few years has almost forced me to linger wherever I go. It is a bit of remember history for me, at least personal history.

Just last week I was in Blocker in the evening trying to get some Stat homework completed, and I happened to overhear a big review in one of the classroom auditorium. It was one of my old calculus instructors, Amy Austin, giving one of her nearly-world-famous exam reviews the night before the first big common exam of the semester. The room must have had only 252 seats or so, but I guarantee you the room was packed to the rafters. People all over the place--from the side aisles to the very back of the room...that even stretched to a strategically-placed bench in either entranceway to the room. Simply put, it was packed. Needless to say, I stood in the far back, just listening to the review and the frantic shuffling of review materials of the students preparing for the next night's exam. Oh, the frantic memories.

It goes without saying, I feel blessed. Blessed to have gotten through calculus in some form or fashion, blessed to be getting through this semester thus far, blessed to have family here to visit with, and blessed to have friends to just hang out with.

The game last Monday night, with the Saints playing at home...in THE Dome...was magic. A few friends and I had a party, watched the game, and had some jambalaya that I had made. It was such a great reminder of home and of what I have found here. I can only hope to throw another party again this season. I can always use reminders of home, even if it means lingering in the past.

Speaking of Out-of-This-World Service Projects...

Speaking of out of this world Knights of Columbus service projects, I believe Astronaut Dan Burbank has just done the Aggie Knights (and our Katrina Spring Break Service Project to Thibodaux, LA) one better.

It turns out Burbank, who happens to also be a Knight, has been sent up with the latest NASA mission, STS-115, up to the International Space Station as Mission Specialist. In the picture shown above, Burbank is shown in the center with his feet dangling. Talk about out of this world...I know how cliché. Read the story here.

Kudos to Commander Burbank and the rest of the crew of STS-115. Let's get this construction project completed. Pronto!

Remembering Katrina

One year ago today, a great tragedy happened, one that was foreseen but not remember. Let us all not forget the lessons learned that fateful day and those perilous days afterward. New Orleans, the Gulf Coast, and the whole nation needs healing and needs unity after such a tragic event, and healing will only come after the bickering and finger-pointing stops. Now is the time to rebuild.

We must learn and grow from the disaster that was--and still is--Hurricane Katrina. I pray that we never forget those lives lost and those lives changed forever.

A Hankering for Home

Somethings here in Texas are a bit strange...and do they get strange! This is the land of Texas...bigger than any other dadgum thing in the Lower 48. Better than anything in the Lower 48. Food? Better than the rest. And music? ...You've got it. Better than any other state. ...RIGHT...uh, huh.

So I go into the local Best Buy here (a thing I normally DON'T do simply because Best Buy is horrible at stocking decent music and is WAY overpriced). I go in with the specific goal to finish off the little remainder left on my gift card from some time ago for a CD that I would really like. So I scour their meager collection of CD's while listening to their blaring pop/rap garbage (BLAH!), and finally locate the small jazz section...and I mean SMALL. I go to ask the poor teenage smuck working the floor a question. "Do you know where your Pete Fountain is?" I ask, referring to the legendary New Orleanian clarinetist. All I get back is a blank stare. "Pete who?"

ARGH! What is with these people! I thought to myself. Pete Fountain, Al Hirt...don't you know?!

"What genre of music is he in?" he asks with a blank stare still on his face. "Jazz," I reply with heavy desperation. I wanted to add "you fool" to the end of it, but I restrained myself...just enough. Finally, he goes to search his computer terminal for this "phantom" artist. Sure enough, there's ol' Pete on the screen, but by that time I mused that it was quite alright and that he needn't worry. I would be able to find it elsewhere and at a better price. I grumbled as I found a decent (but a tad overpriced) Frank Sinatra CD, Sinatra Reprise: The Very Good Years, and walked out the store.

That's it...only Amazon.com for me!

"The Rockets' Red Glare..."

Finally, a clear day at the launch pad! The first Independence Day manned spaceflight launch, what a sight! They couldn't have picked a better day to have to scrub to. The weather appears to be perfect and the fallen-foam problem turns out, at the first cursory glance, to be not a problem. What a great day!

"If you hear a voice within you say ' You are not a Painter' then by all means PAINT...and forever silence that voice." - Vincent van Gogh

To the Edge and Back: The Space Shuttle & the Status of NASA

It is becoming apparent, as the days pass by, that NASA's prominence is waning. Gone are the glory years of the Space Race, where risks were taken and success was found, despite the heavy costs. Every time I listen to the news and their negative-to-a-fault discussion of this foam problem, that I am sickened at the entire problem. Similar to what 9-11 was to global politics, the Columbia accident was to the American awareness of the risks of space. While Challenger taught us as a nation not to take anything for granted, the Columbia accident has driven us to fear...to fear the unknown. However, this is not the best result for us as a nation. We must accept the inevitable and accept a certain amount of risk and do the best we can do to get what must be done actually done. Not because of some fanciful desire to fulfill someone's dream but to do what must be done, accepting danger and surmounting it. We mustn't step back from progress, but forward to the future. Simply because failure is not an option.

Godspeed to the Discovery crew in their important mission.

Softly Call the Muster...

In many lands and climes this April day
Proud sons of Texas A&M unite.
Our loyalty to country, school, we pay,
And seal our pact with bond of common might.

We live again those happy days of yore
On campus, field, in classroom, dorm, at drill.
Fond memory brings a sigh - but nothing more;
Now we are men and life's a greater thrill.

On Corregidor 64 years ago today
A band of galliant Aggies, led by Moore,
Held simple rites which led to us doth all to say:
The spirit shall prevail through cannon roar.

Before we part and go upon our way,
We pause to honor those we knew so well;
The old familiar faces we miss so much today
Left cherished recollections that time cannot dispel.

Softly call the Muster,
Let comrade answer, "Here!"
Their spirits hover 'round us
As if to bring us cheer!

Mark them "present" in our hearts.
We'll meet some other day
There is no death, but life eterne
For old friends such as they!

- Dr. John Ashton '06

Brian, you will always be present in the depths of our hearts here in Aggieland. No matter the distance in time, you our still present in our memory.

Good byes are such a tough thing, especially when you aren't even given the chance to say good bye.

TR's Words to the Wise...

"This country has nothing to fear from the crooked man who fails. We put him in jail. It is the crooked man who succeeds who is a threat to this country." - Theodore Roosevelt

These words are a wise observation from Teddy Roosevelt. Nothing less than a realization that this axiom applies to today's society would be something tantamount to the rejection of democracy as we know it in our country today.

Neither side of the political aisle has lived up to Mr. Roosevelt here in this case. We have crooked men (and women) abounding in today's society. It's isn't a coinidence that notable cases of corporate greed such as Enron (Ken Lay, Jefferey Skilling, Andrew Fastdow), WorldCom (Bernie Ebbers), HealthSouth (Richard Scrushy), and the like have occurred in recent years. It isn't a coincidence that backroom politics rather than citizens' votes have set policy for our country or that even our upper echelons of government are almost constantly rocked with allegations of (and, on the rare occasion, convictions for) crimes of corruption and abuse of power. Look no further than our current administration and the K Street corruption scandals. Look no further than the level of unbounded zeal at which the current administration is using its power to do domestic spying without warrants. Neither side has lived up to Americans of any color, of any creed, or of any political persuasion in the issues as of late. They have been and continue to be ruled by special interests. This MUST come to an end and quickly.

It doesn't worry me that the political party that I have supported are party to several documented cases of unethical behavior. It is the cases that are not caught, that are not reported on and that we--as a public--are not privy to that worry me the most. This is where President Roosevelt's words are so indelibly important. We must fear the crooked man who gets away with the crime.

Whether it be on either party, I want my news unbiased and uncommented upon. I want the facts checked, and I want, by any means necessary and legally available, all facts reported upon both fairly and in their entirety. It is time for both sides of the aisle to remove the partisan atmosphere that has cloaked Capitol Hill and the entire country in a debilitating moral haze that not only aids the enemy abroad but also the crooked man among us.

A Break from It All

A respite from the ordinary once in a while is a good thing. Everyone needs some downtime and everyone is in need of time to catch up on things that have gotten the best of them. In this case, I am no different. There is so much I wish to do with this week away from classes. I feel the freedom, and it feels wonderful.

However, I must reflect what the school year in its whole has brought me, certainly both sadness and joy. This year has brought me a certain gaping hole, a void of loss. In August and September we faced hurricane after hurricane along the Gulf Coast. Dennis was immediately after the Fourth of July, chasing me from Gulf Shores, AL. Katrina wrecked havoc on New Orleans like no other in the days leading up to September. Then came Rita in an uncharacteristic swipe at Texas and southwest Louisiana. Thankfully I was able to remain out of harm's way for each, while still praying for those who were in the crosshairs of Nature's fury. One can only hope that this hurricane season is less eventful and, as a result, less destructive. Then in September I remembered the loss of Brian from late spring. New friends have entered since then but sadness for the emptiness of friends long gone remains.

And so I remember Brian as I traveled down the same highway he did coming close to a year now. I think of him each time I travel that busy state highway. I can't help but think of him and his accident. I curse the undivided stretch that took his life and bless the promise of a better road design the engineers have come up with that will, in the future, stem the number of deaths attributed to that deadly stretch of payment between College Station and Houston. So I traveled that highway with the sun blazing red light in its final moments of the day, thinking not only of the sadness but also of the comfort of being on the road.

With all that was lost in memories to my home city, with all that has changed, and with all that will never be the same, I find that in that roadway things never change. In driving those stretches of highways so many times one loses the need for road maps and even the signs and the mile markers. The buildings and the scenery act as small landmarks to guide the way and of which never seem to change. It becomes almost a comforting thing on which to rely, if only life and home were that guaranteed. Granted, those in New Orleans are fortunate to have the wherewithal to still be here today, something that one couldn't count on in years past, but I still feel a sense of loss with what I remember to be gone...and something that shall never remain the same.

In all of these thoughts I have come to the conclusion that there is a time to think of the past and what was then and there is a time to look to the future and what is to be. We can only hold on to things for so long, and we can only love what you have while you have it. Turning over a new leaf is something we all must learn to do.