The Year Of Clarity

Lessons learned as I celebrate a 37th (or, Seven and 30th) birthday.

I call it the "oh-snap" moment. Last year, on my 36th birthday, my colleagues at the station didn't know the magic day had arrived until I explained why I was wearing a tricorn hat to work.

Oh snap.

Somebody ran and found a bag of gingerbread cookies -- which I suspect were grabbed from another office -- and hastily put them out at the afternoon editorial meeting as a treat. Later I found my desk decorated as my friends made up for lost time. I'm sure some felt embarrassed, but I didn't mean for it to be that way. I can't remember everybody's birthdays, and I don't expect people to remember mine. We're all so busy covering the news, it's a wonder we can remember our own names.

This year, I got an idea: be pro-active. I bought a triple-chocolate cake at the Wal-Mart bakery and carried it into the newsroom with little fanfare other than the gold-and-faux-fur trimmed tricorn on my head. No candles. No song. Just eat and be merry everyone, if only for a moment. My colleagues gobbled it up.

Wisdom comes from God, and God has given me wisdom on so many things this year. I have clarity now in several areas of my life.

Never underestimate the power of prayer.

I know God heals and answers prayers, but how He did it this year floored me.

How else can you explain a right arm smashed to pieces, healed to a doctor's satisfaction in three months? Besides the two pins holding it together. New bone still has to lay in there. All sorts of people were praying for me on that awful night in Flagstaff, and look at the miracle that came out of it. It strengthened my faith, not to mention my desire to get back on the dance floor again and again.

I'm not ashamed to tell people how it happened: "I broke it while dancing a Highland Fling." I don't think it makes me any less of a man to admit that. I refuse to fib about my passions or why I healed so quickly.

I Peter 3:15 (NIV) -- "But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect."

One person suggested that God was trying to tell me to slow down after I broke my arm. On the contrary, I think He wanted me to get back up.

I am where I am for a reason.

The Virginia tourist board has a saying: "Live Passionately." That's exactly what I did for a week in April -- re-enacting a Civil War battle with the 1st Virginia Volunteer Infantry, touring Williamsburg, Yorktown, Jamestowne, and Leesburg. I'd never lived with as much passion in my life, walking through Colonial Williamsburg dressed like a Continental Army soldier and posing with so many families for pictures. Then there was that ball in the Capitol building.

When I returned to Tucson, I felt like a stranger walking back into my job, seeing the world again through computer screens and TV monitors. It's living in the fishbowl, only I'm the fish looking out at the rest of the world. I wondered if I was missing some calling. I wondered if I belonged in Virginia, showing people their history rather than writing its rough draft.

I prayed for guidance. The answer came at the American Heritage Festival, when I was talking with some fellow 18th Century re-enactors about the Virginia experience, when I suddenly realized this: "If I go there, I can't do it here." I can't enlighten Arizona children (or adults) in Virginia. A need exists here, too.

My heart needs friendship and companionship more than marriage.

This year, I met a beautiful single lady at a picnic through a mutual friend. We opened up to each other. She expressed an interest in attending one of the We Make History balls, and that's when I felt the push.

I invited her to be my guest. I hungered to show her the joy of historic dance with a room full of gracious people in period attire. That was our first date, although I didn't think of it as one. I saw it as inviting a lady to share in a night of fellowship and warmth. She enjoyed the dancing, and she persevered through the parts where I got lost and wasn't the best teacher. I invited her to another ball a month later. She enjoyed it even more.

We shared a few typical dates -- seeing movies and exploring Colossal Cave. The two of us enjoyed pleasant dinners and conversation. We talked about our lives and our dreams and how God had touched us. We shared several hugs.

"You're so real," she told me.

That left me worried. My demeanor towards ladies draws its inspiration from the 18th Century. I labor to aim my thoughts high, showing what many would consider an anachronistic degree of respect. Why? Because something as simple as a bow uplifts me, and it uplifts the ladies. It gives me peace. It gives me purpose. It's not an act or some phony come-on, although I fret people might misinterpret it.

II Corinthians 8:21 (NIV) -- "For we are taking pains to do what is right, not only in the eyes of the Lord but also in the eyes of men."

I found her real, too. I thanked God for bringing her into my life. Here, finally, after many years of not even trying to find a lady was somebody with whom I could share some special time. But as the relationship grew, and we looked towards the future and whether we would -- or should -- spend it together, I couldn't dodge the truth. I didn't see any desire for marriage growing within me. I thought that would change, but it didn't.

I've always had a problem seeing myself married. I don't understand why, but I gather it comes from so many years of living on my own and finding comfort in moving at my own pace. Or maybe God just didn't put that desire for marriage in me. Instead, I have this "honor the ladies" desire. It came From Above after some friends showed me where to look.

Finally, I confessed to her marriage scared me. Perhaps that was more truth than I needed to say at that time, but I promised I would never hurt her, and I did not want to lead her on in vain. She and I moved on with our lives, even though we still remain friends. I still love her as a Sister in Christ.

God answered my prayers for guidance in that relationship. Now I know what I seek. The honorable gentleman sometimes lives alone, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. God, I believe, has a different path for me, one that has brought and will bring many friends into my life -- even if I never kneel at the altar with a lady.

I Corinthians 7:32-35 (NIV) -- "I would like you to be free from concern. An unmarried man is concerned about the Lord's affairs—how he can please the Lord. But a married man is concerned about the affairs of this world—how he can please his wife— and his interests are divided. An unmarried woman or virgin is concerned about the Lord's affairs: Her aim is to be devoted to the Lord in both body and spirit. But a married woman is concerned about the affairs of this world—how she can please her husband. I am saying this for your own good, not to restrict you, but that you may live in a right way in undivided devotion to the Lord."

Thank you, God, for 37 years of life on this earth. Help me to serve You and others. Please keep giving me these points of clarity. I have a lot to learn, and I'm far from a genius.