I'm an Evil Man

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...I'm also into cats.*

We left the house at 6:30 this morning to go get fingerprinted for the FBI so we can move forward with this adoption process. That gave us an hour to get to our appointment.

And then we hit traffic. At 6:35.


For the next twenty minutes we slowly inched our way forward. It was like driving on the 5. I kept telling my wife that I left California for a reason.

It would be cool to be able to tell you all that I kept my cool. I mean, we only had an appointment for the three of us--my best friend had to get printed too, and he had work to get to--and if we missed this appointment it would be two weeks before we could try again. And I hate driving. And the trip was supposed to take 35-45 minutes as it was, so this 20 minute parking lot was cutting it close. And I tend to get lost if I haven't been to a place before, so I needed the extra time that was quickly ticking away.

I didn't keep my cool.

I lost it.

This adoption stuff is killer. Brittany's stressed out too, and that only adds to my stress. It ain't pretty. And it wasn't pretty in the car.

And the three car pileup that had blocked three lanes of traffic wasn't pretty either. But by then, I didn't care. Whoever had caused that accident had also interfered with my adoption, and the lives of the hundreds of other people stuck in traffic that morning as well, not to mention any fatalities. People were in my way, and there are few things in life as annoying as people who are in my way.

To make it worse, all these people were potentially pushing back my adoption date even further. Get between me and my kids? I'm not going to be happy with you.

And I wasn't happy.

When I finally got to work my blood pressure was up, and and my feathers were ruffled. And then I read Judy's post...

[insert you reading her post now]

I wish I was there. I do.

But I'm not. Not by a long shot.

We made it to the appointment on time, we got through everything really quickly, and I'm pretty sure my friend got to work in plenty of time. So, to add salt to the wound: It all worked out beautifully. Everything was great, except my attitude.

Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me. ...because I'm an evil man.

I wish I could be a perfect husband, friend, and father, but I'm not.

The "salt" stings, but I've heard that salt helps wounds heal. And perhaps that's why God so often blesses us despite our severe lack of faith--to heal our mistrust, to teach us that He is trustworthy.

~Luke Holzmann
Filmmaker, Writer, Expectant Father

*So obscure no one gets it. That's fine.
You'll get used to my apparently disjointed comments as well.
Or you'll roll your eyes like my wife <smile>.
If you're dying to know, Google the phrase.
You are responsible for what you watch.

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