Risk

There’s been a recurring thought bouncing around inside my brain for a few years now. The older I get, the louder the thought screams at me. It’s pretty simple. I don’t want to die without sometime in my life having risked something for a cause I believe in. I’m not sure it’s a requirement for getting to heaven but it’s just something I think is important. Jesus certainly risked for me. I think we’re all called to risk for the things He taught us.

What’s the point in believing in something if it’s not going to be important to you…important enough to risk. Otherwise, I’m just not sure it’s worth it.

When I got sort of serious about this idea a couple of years ago I found a peace march and went out and marched for peace. It was a lot of fun and certainly something I’d never done before. The weather was perfect and it wasn’t all that long of a walk. I knew I wasn’t risking getting arrested. But even if I had been arrested there’s no big deal there. Getting arrested for marching is sooooo 60’s. There’s just no risk there.

So I went back to the drawing board. I figured out that one thing I’ve never done before in my life was put a political bumper sticker on my car. Now that’s a risk. Back when I worked for a small business with the owner of the business sharing a parking lot with my car there was the risk of losing promotions or salary increases. I think right now the biggest risk would be danger to my car in a Wal-Mart parking lot. I worry if the temptation to just let go of their cart and let it roll into my door might be greater if I had an outrageous sticker on my bumper. I know how I feel when I see one of those self-righteous stickers from someone I don’t agree with. I’ve never harmed the car with opposing beliefs myself, seeing as how I’m perfect and above all that and everything. But I have to admit the temptation is there.

So I’ve sent off for my Obama bumper sticker. See, there’s my first big risk. I’ve never told who I’m supporting for president before in this blog. Now you know. I'm sure this comes as a big surprise to everyone who knows how conservative I am. All things being equal between Obama and Clinton, I just don’t see the experience factor as being that big. After all, we’ve had this Bozo for eight years, haven’t we? How hard can it be—really?

I worry about Hillary’s hair kind of like I worry about the hole in Willie Nelson’s guitar. I’m sure it really doesn’t make any difference but there’s a chance it might. That’s where Obama has a huge advantage over her. The guy always looks the same. Wears the same suit every day, or, if he doesn’t, it sure looks the same. His hair always looks the same, for sure. And here she’s got to not only wear something new every time, she has to make sure it is a color that compliments her. She has to make sure it fits, for goodness sake. What a drain on her energy that must be. AND her hair has to look good 24/7. Every woman knows how hard that is to accomplish. Gosh, Barack Obama barely even has hair.

I get tired just thinking about it.

Anyway, I’ve got to go. We’re putting in a new door to the hobby shop/guest house. We’re taking the old door off and we don’t know how long it will take to get the new door on. And since we live in such a wilderness we’re running the risk of possums and raccoons moving in if we don’t get the new door put on today. Uh-oh I hear hammering. Gotta go. Better words next week, I promise.