In the midst of these large and great matters all too often the individual becomes the forgotten man.  Then he emerges in solemn significance and we see that at last everything else depends upon him.  The passion for goodness on the part of the individual is the only true basis for social hopes.  All our values come to frustration when the canker of falseness rots the individual life.  The individual alive with the passion for goodness is all the while making feasible new hopes for the lot of man.  The treachery in the heart of the individual is the ultimate foe.  The triumph of good in the individual life is the central victory which makes all other victories possible.  Here we see in full flower the ultimate human value.

Lynn Harold Hough, The Civilized Mind - Forest Essays - Second Series, The Abingdon Press, New York, Cincinnati, Chicago, 1937, pg., 238

Via Improved Clinch

These words express a wonderful truth.

I've been thinking about the sentiments expressed by a soldier who blogs ... wondering if his experience snapshots humanities corporate and/or even individual "story".  It seems like a lot of days might be tossed in to the pile labeled "not good enough for an honorable life" ... some days, and maybe whole stacks of them, can seem ... pointless.  We intend to spend our lives in a way that makes a difference. It's hard to see the difference in a day ... it's hard to see the point from the scale where life is lived.

I have been looking at the book Falling Upwards.  And don't particularly recommend it as it can be summarized with this idea … you spend the first while of your life being shaped (by your unique journey) in to a vessel from which you are able to pour out your unique contributions.  I think those contributions are directed towards the people within your arms length (maybe within the reach of your words, maybe within the reach of your reach through time and space) … maybe hostiles if you're  you're a warrior … maybe your loves 'cause you care for them … maybe just the kid at the 30 minute oil change place who is trying to figure out what a man looks like … maybe a woman thinking about spiritual warfare (me).  

Recently finished reading JARHEADs  he talks about  "the Suck" … and as I read it I thought … this guy's life really isn't very different from my own.  I spend my days cleaning up everyone else's messes … there are crap scrapes stuck to the back of toilets in everyone's  life … I thought about his marksman training … pretty cool stuff … He spent all that time and didn't get to shoot at anyone (again, metaphorically speaking, just like me) … just walking along carrying stuff from here to here … as in The Things They Carried (also recently read) … everyone (in these books I am currently reading) seems to be asking a similar question … "What's the point … Did I matter, or will I be easily forgotten?  Am I significant? How might I be significant?" 

I'm trying to process all this warrior stuff as a metaphor for a spiritual or eternal truth.  It's complicated.  The questions are complicated.  and then … some simple answers emerge in the solemn significance of a person well built for eternity.  I think a lot of life stuff doesn't make good enough sense because we are all in the suck.  Improved Clinch's  post does, for me, illuminate a "good enough" answer … or hope … here: The triumph of good in the individual life is the central victory which makes all other victories possible.  Here we see in full flower the ultimate human value.

And, for me, The real significance of that is that I might realize that I am significant to God.  My eyes aren't big enough to see the big picture, but I may find some comfort and also strength, in the notion that this isn't the whole deal … and I have some small role which He thinks is significant  (enough so to have created me).


I like remembering that on a day like today.  I was away until late last night.  This morning finds yesterday's dishes ... several loads of laundry, one waiting in the dryer, another wrinkling, but fresh smelling towels in a wicker basket, yet another just gathered up already in the washer,  soaking in baking soda ... newspapers ... clutter ... unmade beds ... Sam looking at me hoping ... . Another day in the life!  I've already been chided for bringing the van home on E ... I look around and sigh.  I am on E.  I've been on E for ... a long time. 


Too funny ... just happened between that sentence and this one ... doorbell rang ... hardhat at the door.  He tells me that they have to turn my water main off for a bit of work down the line.  Perfect.   Sammy is going to get that walk.