Amazing

Okay, so I am finally responding to my 'tagging' by a friend. A month ago a friend tagged me and so I was supposed to write about five things no one knows about me. Here goes ...

First, I miss my Dad more than anyone else I don't talk to on a regular basis. Of course, I have a pretty good reason: my Dad died on Christmas morning in 1994. Still, I find that as I get older, he is the one I miss most of all the people with whom I have not talked since that day. He was becoming my closest friend that year before he died. I was beginning to understand him, what motivated him and what moved him and what left him unaffected. And I think he had begun to understand why I am who I am, too. I can hardly express how much I miss him.

Second, I like cats. (I can only barely believe this myself.) I have always been a dog person. Why people would even tolerate a cat or a bird or some worthless other 'pet' was beyond me. Then I married this woman who had a cat. And her cat used to 'hug' me. He'd put one paw on either side of my neck and rub the collar bone to massage his paws, while rubbing his noggin against the point of my chin. It looked and felt like a hug, even if it was just him asserting his dominance by holding me in place. When Pete died I was almost as crushed as my wife was. Now we have two cats, or a cat and a kitten, really. They think they're in charge. But it's okay, because I know how to hide their food. LOL

My garage is a mess because I can't make people move their stuff when they leave home. I have my sisters' dry food in boxxes from the apartment she left to live with us in 2002. That's right...five years ago! She claims she gave all that stuff to me so that I could get rid of it anytime, but she still comes back for odds and ends occasionally. Maybe I hold onto it so she'll have an excuse to come back by. Sounds pretty bad, huh?

Fourth, when my Dad was cutting my hair as a little boy, he never cut it short enough. I used to cry and he thought it was because, like my older brother, I wanted it longer than he'd leave it. Mom used to think it was because I didn't want a haircut and she hated the crew cuts Dad liked to give. I guess I let her think that, but I don't remember why. What I do remember was the grin that would paint itself on my Dad's face when he was cuttin our hair. Maybe I just liked that grin and wanted him to keep cuttin and grinnin.

Fifth, when I was younger, I wanted to grow up to be Jesus. Not be LIKE Jesus. I wanted to actually BE Jesus. As I've grown up and matured, I came to accept that we are just supposed to be like Jesus. But I've been reading the book and praying and studying what Jesus said. And what He did. And what He calls for His followers to do. And I'm beginning to realize all over again that we are the only representation of Jesus that many folks will ever see. And so I want to really BE Jesus again...so that people will know what it is like to walk with Him.

When I am dead and if anyone ever wants to put down a gravestone somewhere, I want to have lived so that they write this:

"The longer Glenn lived, the more He lived Jesus.
And now that he's gone, all I see when I think of him is the face of Jesus."

That would be...amazing.