Karma is a Tip Jar

When I was in the sixth grade the local Chevron gas station had a grand re-opening to celebrate their new convenience store addition. There was clowns, free hot dogs and a contest to win a years supply of slurpees.  I was barely listening when my name was called. I had won. It was a card for 52 slurpees, not quite a years worth. I became real popular pretty quick and within a week or so the card was used up and my popularity went back to normal.


Someone there was bound to win. Most of life is a numbers game, there's a certain amount of people who will be: diabetic; born rich; live in poverty; married; divorced; never marry; live to be 100 yrs old;  or win a year supply of slurpees in grade 6 and get a tumor at age 33.


There's not usually a particular rhyme or reason to a lot in life. It just happens.  Karma is a tip jar, not something preached in a children's hospital. 

“Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he has been robbed.

“[The fact is] most putts don’t drop. Most beef is tough. Most children grow up to be just people. Most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration. Most jobs are more often dull than otherwise. …

“Life is like an old-time rail journey—delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed.

“The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride"

— Jenkin Lloyd Jones

Truth is I don't know if this tumor business is harder on me or my family.  


Recently, I was talking to a friend who had a financial blow of sorts. After listening to him I wasn't too sure who had it worse between the two of us. Meaning life happens differently to all, because we are all different. On crutches people open the door for me, give me concerned looks and say "atta boy" comments. On the other hand my friend with the financial issues? No stranger would care and no friend has the money to bail him out. We all have our crosses to bear.

I prefer hanging out at home with Myrtle then at the hospital.  Myrtle somehow knows that it is not where she is, but who she is with that matters. She was just as happy to see me come out of the change room in a muumuu as she is seeing me at home. 

One day Myrtle might care what I'm wearing.

My little tumor (kiwi's are small? ...right?) might be benign (as I pray that it is). Then again I might be down a limb by years end, or the year's end might be my end. When I pray and think of my life though, I think of seeing Myrtle getting married and other milestones of life that are years down the road. I pray for everything and expect nothing.

Well, I do expect there might be a few more bumps to come. My prayer and hope is for when life knocks me down I get back up and "thank the Lord for letting [me] have the ride."