Black

Well, I did it.

It took me around twenty years to reach this goal (I took about 17 years off!), but I finally reached Shodan (1st degree black belt) in Karate. Getting my black belt means something to me. Part of what it means is very personal, and I don't expect everyone to understand it all, so I will not share that here. What I will share is that to me it means that I kept at something and didn't quit. And that feels GOOD.

The 2nd part of the test was harder than the 1st part. The 1st part was just an ordeal that I had to get through. But the 2nd part involved having to stay sharp, focussed, strong, alert, etc., even when I was exhausted and under much scrutiny.

And as I was presented with the symbol of my rank and accomplishment... I was reminded by those conferring it upon me the black belt meant that I have a box of tools, and that I really don't know how to use them yet. That is the aspect of training that lies ahead.

Still, I was feeling pretty good about it all until I got home and checked my email to find in my inbox something that made my stomach hurt. I don't care to go into any detail. But I will say that one thing that seems to me to be prevalent in Reformed circles, and perhaps especially in Reformed Presbyterian circles, is the tendency to shoot (the wounded) first and ask questions... alot of questions... grilling, relentless questions... later.

Why is it so hard for some people to just be friendly? Kind? Nice? Why do some have to be so jaggedly formal, cold, unfriendly?

Black... on my belt, makes me smile.

Black... on our hearts, makes me sad.

In other news: I had a migraine earlier today, and after it passed (as usual) I felt like I was dreaming for the rest of the day... in a fog. I feel much better now, thanks for asking.

Please pray that my friends don't move to Texas.