Give 'em hell.
Jesus,
That's what he said to me, but you know that. As he was finishing up a noontime run and I was lacing up to begin mine, those were his parting words. The wind was strong out of the south, probably 15-20mph, I was headed north but the return would be, as he said, 'in your face...so give 'em hell.' And so I did.
I can see you, Lord, shuffling along the shore, coming upon a boat about to cast into the wind, maybe a 15-20mph-er, and you calling out to the men on board with 'its in your face...so give 'em hell.' And I can sense those men tremble, as I did that day, as the low string was plucked and the masculine stirred. I can see them grin and wave back or raise a chin and then go give it to 'em.
Wild at Heart was 20 years ago, Lord. Maybe we took it too far, things got too wild, too ballsy, too hairy...but I do remember those as days of being both shaken and stirred, halcyon days of the low string. I miss those days, Lord. And I miss those men.
Amen.
Well, I've been debating whether or not to sign up for the Wild at Heart Boot Camp lottery for the fall retreat. This post was the kick in the pants I needed for that.
ReplyDeleteWhere did those men go? Or what did they become? Just curious...
ReplyDeleteMike, glad to hear it!
ReplyDeleteTim, they're/we're still around, but...hmmm, good questions...
ReplyDelete