Orienting My Heart

What I wanted more than anything my junior and senior year of high school was a computer of my own. After a wiped hard drive my sophomore year, I had trust issues with our family computer. I wished to write my papers in the solace of my room without anybody asking me if they could get on to put music on their iPod or check their email. I set about constantly dropping hints to my parents about exactly what I wanted. It was the Daisy Red Ryder BB Gun of my own life, the Apple MacBook. From our conversations, it seemed that my parents were all aboard for me getting it. I told them I was willing to sacrifice Christmas, graduation, my birthday, whatever it took to get exactly what I knew I wanted.

Christmas morning I shot out of bed, ready to see if my wish had come true. I found a couple of small wrapped presents under the tree and some stocking stuffers, but certainly nothing the size of a MacBook hiding beneath the branches. As William proceeded to open his gifts, I silently rehearsed the reserved and noncommittal tone in which I would receive my Christmas presents. I refused to allow myself to be crushed that I didn't get what I had asked for. After all, it wasn't that my life was in any way lacking or that I was deprived because I didn't get what I asked for.

Seriously, this is the picture I got on the Christmas tree

I opened my gifts and thanked my parents, still repressing any moodiness I may have been feeling inside. I knew what I was asking for was a lot. I had the freedom to ask, but my parents also had the freedom to say no. My dad looks to my mom and mentions as an afterthought, "Oh, there's one more on the back of the tree." No, they didn't hang my MacBook as an ornament. It was a slip of paper... with a photo of an Apple 13" MacBook Pro and a note telling me we'd be visiting the Apple Store to pick it up in a couple days time. Not only did my parents give to me what I had asked for, they gave me something that better than what I asked for.

I Am, It Is

Living in Texas, every evening is a reason to celebrate because the sun setting in the sky is one of the most magnificent things you will ever see. There are songs written about it, “if you haven’t seen a hill country sunset, you ain’t met me Texas yet,” (thanks JAB). There are Instagram hastags devoted to it—#nofilter #texasforever. And yet, when we see these scenes, what do we automatically think?

“That looks like a painting!”

“It looks like it’s in HD!”

Wait, hold up, what? Real life looks like what?