Kopp Disclosure
(John 3:19-21)
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I beat the rain
on the way home to see my parents, sister, and related, uh, relatives.
Of course, as any
authentic knows, if you're really trippin', it's going to rain sometime during
just about every ride. You're gonna start or end in it or ride into
it and yet always ride through it sooner or later. I'm reminded of the
brother who asked during a downpour outside of Rapid City, South Dakota last
August, "Do you think it's ever going to stop?" I replied,
"Always has except, uh, once."
Jesus: "Rain
falls on everybody."
LS:
"Troubles will come and they will pass" (Simple Man).
I started back
home on Friday at 5:00 a.m. (ET) and arrived at 7:00 p.m. (CT); grindin'
and grinnin' out the 800 miles with stops for gas and putting on and taking off
my rainsuit. I burned up that cheap rainsuit, lost my favorite gauntlets
under a bridge near Toledo while waiting out a monsoon and forgetting I left
'em on the saddlebags while changing to my all-weathers, and even wore my
helmet because the raindrops felt like ball-bearings while going...
Hold on.
I went home to
Pennsylvania.
I returned home
to Illinois.
Irony.
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Speaking of
irony, I met my old scoutmaster while he was getting his hair cut by my
sister. I don't get haircuts anymore if
you know what I mean. But it did provide an opportunity to
thank him for helping form the best in my life while I continue to take credit
for the worst.
The pizza was
great as always; and I had an opportunity to tell one waiter working on his
Ph.D. to get done as quickly as possible so he can get on with real life if you know what I mean in
a 1 Corinthians 1 kinda way.
I watched news
reports about Goodell suspending "Saints" for bounties as if...
I read about
Congress wanting to throw Clemens in the slammer for lying to them as if...
I threw up while
watching BBPBHO and the Mormon talk about how to make America well as if...
I played nine
with my dad - both of us playing quite well for his age and my ability - after
he almost died twice in the last month as if...
I sold some
books, signed 'em, and then listened to my mom complain about my poor penmanship
as if...
I had so much fun
and wanted to stay home in...
I couldn't wait
to get back home in...
Irony.
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I'm not afraid of
death.
I like to live.
I'm having a
blast despite the irregulars, irascibles, and irreconcilables.
But, nah, I'm not
afraid of death.
Haven't been
since Jesus: "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in
Me, though he die, yet will he live; and whoever lives and believes in Me will
never die."
That's why I
don't get people who say they know
Jesus who live in such fear of something aka death that can never
happen to 'em in the end if
you know what He means.
Aside from my
Libertarian bent and rebellion against governments who want to be my nanny and
control me like Miss Pratt in 1st grade, I ride fearlessly to freedom because I
know when that time
comes, to quote a hero, I will be truly free, uh, at last if you know what He means.
So here's the
glorious irony.
I'm in no hurry
to die because I really, really, really like to live.
I like being
home with my family, friends, and...
I can't wait to
see Jesus.
That's when I'll
really, really, really be home if
you know what He means.
Irony.
The glorious irony of...
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"This world is not your home, so don't make yourselves
cozy in it."
1 Peter 2, The
Message
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Blessings and Love!
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