When The "What If" Comes Home To Roost - Further Thoughts / Update

Today was the second consecutive day I was able to visit my sweet Angie in the hospital.  I arrived right at Noon, and whilst entering her room found her sound asleep.  Having had a full morning of PT and otherwise (starting at 4 AM), she was pooped.  So, I sat there on the vinyl couch under the partially closed venetian blinds and listened to her heavy breathing as she took in some Zzzz...

Overall, it was relatively quiet except for the constant volume of conditioned air being distributed throughout the room via the ceiling diffuser.  I took her cell phone and room phone from her bed ever so carefully in order to not wake her.  And then I just leaned my head back and sat quietly, staring all the while at that one ceiling diffuser.  Eventually, she opened her eyes and we chatted for a few minutes before the announcement came over the intercom that visiting hours were coming to a close.

During the drive to the hospital, I reached out to my Silas to provide an update.  I hadn't chatted with him yesterday, but I had done so everyday since Friday (the day of her stroke), I'd kept him abreast of the crisis in my monotone, matter-of-fact manner.  That being said, during this conversation, he bravely ventured forward by asking me some hard questions.  And I describe them as such because they were qualifying.  And these are always hard by definition.  They're the kind of questions I absolutely love asking of others myself because I tend to make a lot of assumptions otherwise.

To qualify is to determine one's role or responsibility within another person's life - either for a moment, a season or perhaps even for a lifetime.  They're questions that separate the men from the boys in that they're high risk relative to adding additional weight to that which you've already accounted for.

Most men (including myself) aren't looking to carry more weight.  Due to this universally sympathetic truth, qualifying questions are typically deflected easily because they're asked poorly.  And this poorness, I would argue, is usually intentional due to cowardice.  And this is very understandable due to how we as men might fear to look (react) relative to the answers that very well may come at us.  Especially during tight situations.

In closing, it is a fact that this community of Samson men fosters opportunities for qualifying to occur, and that is such a blessing to all of us who participate in following The Path.

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Samson Society is so cool.  

I am amazed that it exists, and of all places, there are five freaking groups that meet regularly within the Jackson Metro, my hometown.  

May our prayer be that this community grows, and that its impact will especially come into play when men need it the most.

Lagniappe