not that it matters to you

first it was rob neyer, whose columns i read religiously. then it was buster olney, who had me at last night of the yankee dynasty. now espn.com has made peter gammons, the commissioner!, an insider columnist. well fuck this fucking game!

happy haiku friday!

in the warm waters

a tempest begins to spin

the fool ventures in

musing...

last weekend, in an aside unrelated to an ongoing conversation, i told kellie that i had failed a friend.

this friend was a key component of the twenty-something small group i led for several years. she is a beautiful, free-thinking woman who did not hesitate to introduce wiccans to our small community of Christians and taught me, as well as the small circle that reads the boston globe, how to put a human face on homelessness. she has been homeless and has studied at harvard, she has written for spare change (a local newspaper written by the homeless) and spoken at universities throughout the country. she is truly a remarkable woman.

of course, she is also a magnet for trouble and tragedy. after enduring three car wrecks in a sixteen month period, none of which she was liable for, she was diagnosed with brain injury. this degenerative condition rendered her susceptible to seizures and spinal meningitis and made it impossible for her to work. since her home state has very few social services, she found herself living on the streets of boston and constantly navigating the swamps and switchbacks of mass health. did i mention that her family rejected her when she decided b.j.u. (that's bob jones university. stop laughing) wasn't the ideal environment for her education? did i mention that people from her fundamentalist youth constantly call to berate her and draw direct parallels between her refusal to wave the flag of the five fundamentals and her constantly declining health? did i mention that i, one of her last connections to the faith, failed her by scrupulously maintaining my distance lest she inhibit the forward motion of my ministry?

so i guess it is confession time. i failed her because i was afraid. i didn't know how to solve her problems. i couldn't help her navigate a social health system that she knows better than me, i couldn't treat a single one of her ever-increasing number of maladies, i couldn't be bothered by a phone call a day. so i let our connection unravel. and i've felt like shit about it ever since.

after admitting my failure to kellie, i promised myself that i would call her this week. i knew she had been in the hospital for some time and i wanted to check on her health and maybe plan a visit.

she beat me to the punch. yesterday afternoon, i was shaken out of a well-studied stupor by a phone call from my friend. i took the call and was immediately greeted by a twinge of anxiety in her voice. people had been calling her cell phone and asking for me. we didn't know why this was happening, unless....unless it had to do with the t-mobile contract that i co-signed with her almost two years ago. by the way that she recounted the situation, it sounded like the calls were from a collection agency. and so they were.

after calling the agency, and dealing with some customer servant pissant who thought he could push me around, my first thought was, "this figures. if you stand my a magnet like her, the shit is going to hit you as well." fortunately, in that moment, i was reminded of my master's words to not be anxious. furthermore, i began to suspect that walking with my friend through shit like this, instead of keeping my distance lest the smell taint my "ministry," is what following Jesus is all about.

so i've made plans to see her this weekend in order to look through the details of that contract and simply connect. i have this sneaking suspicion that there is a direct, causal correlation between my love for her and my love for God. if i want to move deeper into the latter, i need to walk forward with the former.

post scriptum: friend, if you're reading this, please know that i love you. keep on keepin' on.