In loving memory......

Through sleepy eyes I wander to the light coming from the kitchen. I creep ever so quietly, carefully navigating the living room. I step lightly on the carpet to keep from being heard. I can hear the muffled sounds of classic country on his old radio. The smell of his morning coffee fills the house. The sun is just starting to peek through the sky, but he has been up for awhile. He gets up early all week for his job, but it doesn't matter he loves the morning time. Today is Sunday and he could easily take his much earned rest but he won't, it's not in his nature. My footsie pajamas scrape on the kitchen tile and give me away. His paper shuffles and he pretends not to have heard. I try to sneak all the way up to him, but I can't control the urge to giggle. He lowers the paper and a big grin appears. He schooches out the chair next to him and pats the chair. I climb up and settle in. He carefully separates the funnies from the paper and hands me "my newspaper". He goes back to reading his sport section. My legs swing back and forth as I laugh at Garfield. I can hear the Judds playing "grandpa tell us about the good ol days" in the background. The noisy kitchen clock ticks loudly and I rub my eyes. My tummy rumbles and in the quiet kitchen, he chuckles. His little man is hungry and he folds his paper up. I watch him get up with greedy eyes. Sunday breakfast is special. The work in the garage starts later and this is our time. He starts the bacon and the sizzling smoky smell makes me hungrier. It seems like an eternity waiting for it to cook. The eggs are next and we like them scrambled. The toast is my job and I almost forgot. The smell of breakfast had me distracted. I got them popped down and am off the get the juice. The jug is a little heavy and it wobbles. I spill some, but he just smiles. He grabs a rag and cleans up after his little man. Breakfast is almost done. The toast is buttered and the plates are set. We set the table for three. My brother is asleep still and we should go wake him. We should, but today we don't. It's my birthday and he wants to enjoy the alone time with his little man. Hot Wheels and G.I. Joe's are on my birthday list, but nothing compares to this. Mornings are our time and nothing beats this moment.

Thirty some odd years later, I am a grown man. Inside, I am still that little boy. It is once again my birthday but dad is no longer here. I wait for our special birthday call. It never comes. Logically, I knew it would never come. That doesn't stop me from waiting and hoping. The little boy inside misses him so much and I hurt. He wasn't just my dad, he was one of my best friends. We talked through life's problems, both his and mine. I feel abandoned. I wasn't ready to let him go. I find myself navigating fatherhood and I wonder if I am making the memories that my boys will cherish. Will they think back thirty years from now and be moved by something as simple as a memory? Have I been the father I should be? He made me feel special and I hope that I have done the same for my boys. Oddly enough, I hope that they someday experience this pain I feel. If they do, I guess I have done my job.
Dad, your birthday is almost here and you would have been 63. You left us way too early. It has been seven years now and I still fight the urge to call you. The call that you were gone still echoes in my head. My heart broke all within a heartbeat. Time was supposed to ease the pain. It didn't. Is it possible to remove the pain and still keep the memories? I am not sure. I doubt it. If that is the case, then I hope it never goes away.

Diggin' deep

Life has been busy. Saturdays have been full with football games and travel across the midwest. I have some pretty good pictures and for now I can only give some quick thoughts with them. So enjoy!

Touch The Sky

I am going to try and touch the sky,

I am going to see if I can fly,

This hurt and anger gives such a rush,

I would like to say sorry for the hearts I might crush,

After I am gone people may say

that it must be terrible to go that way.

Some people may say it is a selfish way to die.

I just wanted to see if I could fly.

Now as I feel the cold in the air,

I have disposed of all my senseless cares.

This car is going to be my salvation,

I am doing this with no reservations,

and as I near the bend

I know it is the end.

To all who care, do not cry,

I just wanted to see if I could touch the sky.

Sky on Fire

At that time the sign of the Son of God will appear in the sky, and all the nations will mourn.

They will see the son of God coming on the clouds of the sky, with power and great glory.

Matthew 24:30

Night Watch

The moon is bright and the sky is clear tonight. My scope is trained on something moving in the sage. A coyote shuffles from beneath the shrubs and I release my finger from the trigger. It was no threat to us tonight. I am wedged between a few boulders and a scrub oak. A rock ledge overhead conceals my position. I am the guard over camp. To the south about a half a mile, my brother, Isaac watches the perimeter in a similar fashion. At sunrise, two others from the security detail will replace us. The camp is settled in for the night. Sleep is sporadic and rest seldom comes. Our group is relatively small, seventy or eighty members in all. The group is pretty tight but we always have a few fringe people. We refer to ourselves as a tribe. Due to our recent circumstances, we have chosen the name Exodus. There are other tribes about; each about the same size, eighty to one hundred people. We have met from time to time to trade and share news. We have no formal leader. We all share the duties and respect each other. We came together out of necessity and stayed out of choice. We have a veterinarian who doubles as our doctor. A construction foreman conducts our prayer meetings. We have teachers, factory workers, computer programmers, and even an accountant or two. I am Jake.

My brother, Isaac, and I were in the National Guard and served in the first Gulf War. That is why we were asked to head up camp security. The security group is mostly made up of hunters and outdoorsmen. Life in the Utah desert can be rough. The daytime heat will take its toll on you and then the night comes and you freeze. We are nomadic. We have to move every few days so we don’t use up all the resources. We may need to double back and stay here again. The herds need to still be plentiful. We live light. All our gear has to be portable and able to move quickly. Tents are our shelters and sleeping bags our beds. We have fled due to convenience not out of fear. Since the plagues have started, the cities are no place to be. People have been thrown into mass chaos. The electricity went out 7 months ago. Food spoiled, radios and TVs stopped broadcasting, no more phones or Internet, and the lights went out. When the lights went out the world slipped into fear. The hysteria was everywhere. That is why we chose exile. You see, believers weren’t directly affected by the plagues. It was the consequences of others that hurt us. Somebody had to drive the buses, fly the planes, work at the power plant, and keep the peace. It just was simpler to get out of the path of destruction. We are a peaceful tribe and do the best to protect each other.

From my vantage point I can see fires burning in the distant city. Smoke is still rising from burned out buildings and unattended homes. The night watch leads to soul searching. The stillness and quiet invite a man to reflect on his life. That life seems so far away. It seems like normality has been gone forever. Eight months ago I had a wife, Sara, a baby girl, Lucy, a good job and life in small town America. The recession in the economy wiped that out. Middle class America became extinct. So many people were unemployed and desperate; the collapse of society wasn’t a surprise. People didn’t need a big push to go over the edge. At first the crimes were small and focused mostly on the establishment. Banks were robbed, grocery stores looted, government offices vandalized. The frustrations of the people were centered on what they felt put them in their situation. Once the line had been crossed, it wasn’t hard for them to justify going farther. The inhibitions of the law were tossed aside. Murder rates rose, home invasions were rampant, and rapes became everyday occurrences. People had lost their way and weren’t looking for the way back. That’s when I sent my wife to be with her family in Sacramento. I would join them as soon as I could get our belongings packed up and Isaac home from the service. That’s when the first woe, the wrath of God was poured out. Many people died that day and the days to follow. The Abyss was opened and the smoke blacked out the sun and stars. All ground transportation screeched to a halt. Accidents were everywhere. Air traffic controllers were useless. Helicopters and planes fell from the sky. People in the air and on the ground became victims. I never heard if Sara’s plane had landed. I never spoke to them again. I believe that in one way or another, they were safely taken home. As the plague worsened, life became unbearable in the city. The mass chaos it brought was horrific. The Damned, what we called the unbelievers, were cursed with the pain. Although they weren’t allowed to die that didn’t stop them from attempting suicide. The bugs and vermin that feasted on the squalor made it inhabitable. The sights and sounds that echoed from the streets made the choice to relocate an easy one. Our tribe had been meeting at the library in the old town hall. Unanimously we voted to seek the safety and openness of the nearby desert. Safety. Not from God, but from the uncontrolled civilization that was lashing out at the uninflected. Our God will provide and in Him we shall trust. Our goal, God willing, was to be present at The Glorious Appearing.

The night air is frigid, but that helps keep me alert. I shift my weight and reposition my rifle. It seems so odd that just short while ago this would be considered “camping,” rather than every day life. I used to manage a building materials warehouse in South Salt Lake. After a long maternity leave, Sara was getting back to her secretarial job. We lived in a big house in the suburbs with two cats and a sneaky little dog. We were living the American dream. We met in college. I was tailgating before a Utah football game when a flag football game got out of hand. On a touchdown catch my shirt was ripped. I hurried and ran into the Red Zone store. Sara was working the register. She had only a partial scholarship and had to work to make ends meet. We flirted and I asked her to come hang out after the game. She met me in the tailgate lot and we talked the night away. We began dating, by spring we were engaged, and early the next fall on a bye-week, we wed. Our marriage was like any other. It had its ups and downs. We struggled to get used to each other’s quirks and odd habits. We found it difficult to make our mark on the world at first. Several dead-end jobs found their way to my résumé. I was able to find work driving a truck for a local supply house. The housing market was booming and the economy flourished. I quickly moved my way up the company ranks. It wasn’t long before I was running the warehouse and making good money. We enjoyed our youth and developed a desire to spend our newfound fortune. Every toy imaginable found its way into our garage. We were living the life. Spending money like we had our own printing press. For a while, that seemed like enough. We thought we were happy. Soon we found ourselves wanting more; “never satisfied!” was the motto. Every purchase only deepened the void. It didn’t fill the hole we felt inside. We became unhappy. Dissatisfied with our lives, jobs, and even each other. We knew people who were truly happy and had nothing. They lived in small cramped houses barely scraping by. Yet, they were happy with what they had. They seemed at peace. We found that odd. How was that possible? Why them? That’s when Sara’s boss invited us to his church picnic. We saw every stereotype imaginable crumble before our eyes. These people weren’t stuffy fun haters. They were normal everyday people. They were having a blast and that feeling was contagious. We needed to know more. We became sponges as to what they had to say. The joy that was filling their lives was the void we were trying to fill. Our lives were forever altered on that day.

Roaring thunder pierced the stillness of the night. In the distance I can hear a Blackhawk making circles around the city’s perimeter. The new government is up and running. No power or fuel shortages for them. Their peacekeeping patrols keep the inmates from destroying what’s left of the civilized world. Most believers have either left the decaying cities or are staying to try and witness. We knew from the bible that this wasn’t even close to being over. The locusts were just the beginning. The second woe to befall the earth was coming. It called for a third of earth’s population to be destroyed. It didn’t take much for us to see that that was going to be bad. The dead would be lining the city and the smell would be awful. These people aren’t our enemies. They are those foretold by scripture as the damned. They are the people that didn’t accept Christ and still refuse. They are stubborn. They refuse to change. After seeing the power and wrath of God, they will not repent. Their hearts have become hardened and they have chosen their path. Revelations tells us that after all they have seen and been through, no one repented, not one. Knowing that God protects the righteous and we are not meant for His wrath, we made our exodus. That was two months ago.

All that I have left is Isaac and this tribe. This is the family that I was chosen to enter eternity with. I no longer fear the trappings of everyday life. My finances. My job. All gone. No need to worry about possessions. I had inflated their importance before and clouded myself from my true calling. When we accept Christ, we put aside those obstacles and pick up the cross. Sara and I had to learn all our lessons the hard way. We lived a fabulous life with all the luxuries that modern society could offer. A big house, fast boat, money in the bank, all had the makings of stumbling blocks. Having them wasn’t a sin. Being successful wasn’t a sin. It was when I placed more importance on them instead of Him. We couldn’t fill the hole in our lives, only He could. We hit rock bottom. It wasn’t until we were at our lowest that we could see that He was reaching out to us. He had been all along. It’s such a simple concept. We were so arrogant thinking we could save ourselves, when it was only by His sacrifice and grace that it was accomplished.

The camp dogs are stirring and have taken off into the brush! I can hear a patrol cautiously rolling across the desert. Although we are safe from the second woe, we aren’t necessarily safe from persecution. My heart pounds in my chest. What, Oh Lord, do I do? Are we to run? Are we to fight? Do we take our turn and have the courage to testify for you? I raise my binoculars and gauge the distance. Within a few minutes they will see our refuge! The decision has to be made! The adults are prepared for prison or whatever consequences that may come, but we still have children here. I raise my rifle. Thou shall not kill, flashes in my mind. I flick off the safety. Vengeance is mine so saith the Lord, blares in my head. I locate the driver in my sights. A quick shot should take the driver out causing the hummer to roll. Did they spot us? Did they radio any details to others? I command my angels to protect you, crashes into my memory. My finger is on the trigger and I feel the tension on the spring. I breathe in slowly and hold my breath. A roar above the city erupts and the sky ignites! The Blackhawk falls to the earth! The hummer immediately changes course and races to the crash! Insurgents from the city must have lost their patience with the new government. My heart seemed to stop and I am out of breath. It seems even in the end of days the Lord is still teaching me lessons.

The dawn will soon be breaking and I am exhausted. Today we move and rest will be short. We need to move deeper into the desert. It is about to get worse. Retaliation against the believers is inevitable. If we hope to be at The Glorious Appearing, we must take flight. What is to come is beyond our control. His will and plan for us supersedes our will.

The sun has risen and my replacement arrives. My day ends and begins all within the same minute. Someday soon I will rest. What a great day that will be! I will be joined with my family and all this life will be gone from our memories. The night watch is a perfect time to reflect.

Good morning!

I have been exploring new hobbies as you well know. Writing has always been a good hobby, but I needed one with exercise in mind. I am testing out cycling. I have built my legs up quite a bit over the last 6 months and feel like now is the time. I set out out this morning on a 30 mile ride out to Eagle Mountain and back. It was dark and unfamiliar so I took extra caution. No ipod to distract me. Bored out of my mind, I composed a song. Give it a listen and imagine a nursery rhyme tune to it. It's catchy, but I doubt it will be on the radio, ever!

Ode To Litter

Written and composed by

Adam Medina

McDonald’s bag, dirty diaper, old shoe

Peddle around them, what can I do?

Old medicine bottle, it’s pink

Empty Pepto I think

Newspaper, bungee cord, a bra? D-cup!

Where’s she, I better hurry up!

Chorus:

Beep, beep, almost hit by a Jeep

Rev, rev, pushed over by a Chev

Ugh, Ugh, cursed at by a Bug

Beep, beep almost hit by a Jeep

Rev, rev, pushed over by a Chev

Ugh, Ugh just got the finger from that Bug

Furry mess, it’s a skunk

Boy that sure stunk!

Kitty, puppy, a cup with no lid

Another diaper, what are they feeding that kid?

Moving box full clothes

Even the DI won’t take those!

Cigarette butts, sippy cups, tons of trash

I better start hauling ash

Chorus:

Beep, beep, better call for my Jeep

Rev, rev, mooned by that Chev

Ugh, Ugh old lady in the Bug

Beep, beep better call for my Jeep

Rev, rev, hillbillies in that Chev

Ugh, ugh, the old lady topless in that Bug

Used sock, old panty hose

Gum wrapper, tissue from a bloody nose

Chunk of wood, beer can

A car flag. It’s Mexican!

So sad, a little girls dolly

A dirty magazine. Oh golly!

Chorus:

Beep, beep, should of stayed asleep

Rev, rev, want my bed

Ugh,ugh, somebody call the cops on that Bug!

Beep, beep, should have stayed asleep

Rev, rev, want my bed

Ugh, ugh, can’t shake that Bug!

INTRODUCTION

Hello everybody! You must be thinking, What is he doing with third blog? Well, I dunno. It is no secret that I like to write. I have been told that I am entertaining. Some people have no taste! It has been suggested that I write my stories down and I figured I would create a place just for that. But you would say what about Avanishingamerica? Well, that is for stories related to Americana and pictures of the past that inspire me. I will still post there when appropriate, but I wanted some place with a little more creative freedom. I hope I can entertain you and please leave comments. The feedback helps me improve the creative process. I am currently working on a fictional narrative and should be posting soon. I also have a humorous story percolating, but it needs more time. Until then, enjoy the other blogs. Love ya, bub-bye.

No one knows the day or hour....

The room is crowded and the line is endless. I choke on the thick damp air. My feet and back are sore and it seems I have been standing for an eternity. Everywhere people fidget and shuffle about; to say this is uncomfortable would be an understatement. The process is excruciatingly slow. All around me people are on edge. Some are excited and anxious, others are dejected and horrified. Some seek comfort in loved ones and some are stone face independent. Prideful unto the end.

All mankind is here today. This is Judgment Day.

The battle is over; the war has been won. It's either in or out. It’s either eternal life or an eternity of wishing for death. There really was no middle ground, you were either hot or cold. You either stood up for Him or you stood in the shadows. It is too late for any repentance.

The Angel has the chain and holds the key. Our fates have been sealed.

The Throne radiates like the sun from the front of the room. High above the massive line it sits; able to see all those waiting their turn. Lives are played back like movies and judgment handed down accordingly. Trials are scored; the path less traveled rewarded. Fruitless trees discarded; a poorly built house crumbled. It seems this was no fable, no fairy tale. To the right are the angels and the path to the Gates of Heaven. To the left a band of demons and a path smothered in smoke. The last sounds you will hear are of rejoicing, but which side is it coming from?

Angels stand anxiously awaiting the homecoming of the Saints. Their task has been completed. The table has been set; the preparations have been made. The kingdom shall be full; the last puzzle pieces are being laid. For them this is the beginning of a most glorious time. Eternal bliss and true peace realized. The lost have been found and are now home.

Demons greedily grab their victims. They squeal and clamor at their new inhabitants. The treasures they have coveted since the garden are finally theirs. They escort their inmates down the dark path that seems to have no end. Their greatest feat accomplished. The biggest prank complete. They fooled mankind into believing they were just a myth.

It looks like there really were monsters lurking about.

The gavel thunders; another soul is measured. The line inches closer. People’s faces reveal their fate. The believers lunge at the chance to move the line. The non-believers stubbornly lift their feet; to them they clearly know which path is theirs. Those unsure souls are an interesting sight. Their body language screams run but being overcome with fear they cannot move. The choice was our’s to make; a simple task really. The sentence was avoidable. The hard work was done for us.

Life on earth was the test. The exams were our trials. Our lessons were our daily lives. The text given to us, but did we take the time to learn? The answers in plain site, no trick questions. Believe and follow and you are in. The prize was life eternal. A prize we could not earn, it was given. A debt we could not pay, it was paid in full. I close my eyes and breathe deeply. Scenes from my life flash and I revisit the past. Did I pass? Did I have the courage to stand for him when it mattered?

Time seems to pass rapidly and I open my eyes. The line is now short. I look about and realize that no one has been behind me. I am the last? Is this truly the end? Soon it will be my turn and I am excited. It will be my turn to place my life on the scales and see how I measured. Will I rejoice forever or did I make my own prison?

I am next on the docket. My name has been called. My life is the testimony, all the evidence I can show. There is no rebuttal; no excuse will lessen the sentence. I lay it all before him and it is considered. Anxiously, I await the verdict. The pause leads to concern. The Angel moves closer. He passes by me. My heart sinks into my chest.

My Lord, Is my name not in The Book?

Behind me the Gates of Hell creak shut. The Angel weaves the chain and fastens the lock. The sentence of The Damned complete. The Angels and Saints await their last soul. I join the fold.

The room is crowded but not all mankind is here.