Call me Boj

Something occurred to me while reading Job (great story, read it).My revelation wasn't at all that I had anything in common with Job, just the opposite. I guess you could call me Boj.

As you've read before I haven't been that thrilled with work lately, well ever. It's a good thing Sheri doesn't mind moving because I'll get into a funk and the next thing you know I'm looking for work and we're moving. If you didn't know, I've had three jobs since living in Lakeland and we just moved here in 2004! It has to be better at the next place, right? Wrong. The problem is me, constantly searching for that something to put me over the top, new job, new car, new hobbies, new cymbals.

Back to the Boj thing. It seems Satan's method of attack for me is not to take anything from me, but give everything to me. I picture him standing there, swinging his tail in his hand saying, "Yo, Yahweh, I got a plan for that Chris Carey of yours down there. Let me borrow him and I know I can make him happy without you." God, running his fingers through his long white beard, thinks, "..hmmm, he doesn't want to hurt him necessarily, it could do him some good and he could possible write a blog about his experience 35 years from now...." So they spit on their hands and shook or possible bet a dollar on it like the Duke brothers in Trading Places.

So on May 1, 1971 a baby boy is born in Riverside, New Jersey to two wonderful parents and they do there best raising him to be a fine young man. Along the way a sister is born and they loaded up the truck and moved to Clearwater, FL in '75. Mommy sees some intelligence in her little lad and has him tested. Lo and behold, he can skip kindergarten and shoots right into 1st. Great grades, spelling bees, chess (yes he's a nerd), and finally baseball gets his attention. He's a natural! Starting pitcher, clean-up hitter, All-Stars, the works. As he moves into middle school football comes along, quarterback naturally, and girlfriends all the while a little blackness is growing in him. Slacking some, hanging with the wrong crowd and worst of all, the evil combination of break dancing and parachute pants. He even talked his mom into cutting his hair into a little tail in the back, and who's this? Meet Mr. Marlboro Man. So he windmill's his way into High School. Football? Nah, he'll stay in the youth leagues for a while, it's easier, can't work hard at anything, right? How happy can that make you? Plus the cheerleaders like him and the High School girls are all older than him. Now it's the big day, baseball tryouts! Chris makes the team as a freshman, surprise surprise, and by his sophomore year he's starting at second base. Smallish and built for speed he hits lead-off and is a terror on the bases. This is awesome! Plus the older kids on the team always know where a party is, can buy beer, and do this awful tasting stuff that makes you look so cool spitting everywhere, COPENHAGEN! Sign him up! Timeout, message from the dark side. Baseball's getting boring, been there done that, he wants more. Let's party. Him and his crew are everywhere that's anywhere with their partner Buddy Weiser. So much so that his future wife might say, "He can't tell a high school story without mentioning beer". Now baseball's on the back burner and he's having a blast with all the parties (he's pretty sure) so let's railroad his education! Perfect plan, who needs all that learning stuff, it's not very fun and it's not making him happy. One way or another he graduates with good enough grades that he's still accepted to UF and has a scholarship offer to Georgia Southern for baseball. Baseball? He's already skipped the senior all-star game and quit the American Legion team. Besides baseball in college means no party all the time, party all the time, party all the time (thank you Eddie). Let's register at UF, wait, doesn't know if he could coast through that, better try St. Pete Junior College. He can upgrade to the U later. After an enlightening 2 weeks he drops out of college and bounces from job to job until he gets on at Badger Engineering. See, he knew all that education was a waste; he has an awesome job, moves up through the ranks and makes great money. Just one problem, it's WORK. He doesn't like work, that's not fun, no makey happy. Luckily he hasn't lost contact with Mr. Weiser. He falls into a routing of work, bar, sleep; sometimes with the work omitted. Laid off, what do you mean laid off? So the wheel of jobs starts rolling and it's a downhill path. One short term relationship after another, he always finds something wrong with them. Can you believe the size of the pores on that girls face? In one last ditch effort to make Chris happy Satan allows a little sunshine into his life in the form of a sweet young girl named Sheri. "Heck", sneers Satan, "He'll probably corrupt her and I'll get a twofer". After a whirlwind romance and some not so smooth lines on Chris' part the two are married. Ahhh, sweet bliss. New houses, cars, vacations and two beautiful little girls. "What do you mean he's not content", screams Lucifer? "Um, excuse me", says Mr. Narrator, "Can I finish my story?" Anyhow, it's all the same blah, blah, job, blah, blah, be doing it forever, blah, blah, what's the point, blah, blah, there's got to be a purpose to all this, blah, blah, beer, blah, blah. The end.

Well not really, I found out it was only the beginning. As God collected his bet from the Prince of Darkness, who was really ticked that God would sneak a Christian into my life, he reached a hand out to our family. Sheri began taking the kids to Church and asked if I wanted to go. "Yeah right!" Well I finally attended service at Journey Fellowship in Orlando and it was good timing because it seemed the Pastor had written every word just for me. I wanted what he had! Through that entire contest called my life God was secretly steering the whole shebang to that moment. It took a long time to realize true happiness wasn't to be found in this world. I was saved in July of 2002.

Everyone has a story something like this with Satan's dealings a little different than others. Whether it's the poor inner city child with serious skizzles on the court who blows the millions on drugs, or the CEO with all the money in the world who blows the millions on greed. It could be the down on her luck single mom who turns to prostitution and in turn loses the one thing she thought she was fighting for, her child. Or, it could be joe average white guy with everthing in the world going for him that drives away his family with his complaining and sefishness. This world will eventually let everyone down if you let it. Satan's trying his damnedest!

I'd like to say it's been all milk and honey since that wonderful day in '02. Not that it's been bad in any way. It has been awesome from family, to work, to houses, church and a handsome little boy. All of it, but he's still there shooting his arrows at me not fully allowing me to revel in my salvation. I want it badly. Maybe I should read Ephesians again. You know, the old Armor of God stuff. Lately Sheri's been telling me to live everyday like we're already in Heaven and shut up and be thankful and HAPPY! I tell her she sounds like a broken Belinda Carlisle album. (For you youngsters she's the ex-lead singer of the Go-Go's, you know the tune "...we'll make heaven a place on earth..."

Maybe she's right.

Maybe I can be happy.