videogames

Tangible Memories

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / 1 Comment

 

I have my grandfather’s old radio. It sat on his workbench for years and kept him entertained while he tinkered and puttered around in his garage.

Now it sits in my bedroom, a tangible reminder of someone that I loved who is gone but not forgotten.

It’s more than a collection of old tubes and dials and wiring. It’s like a piece of my grandfather is here with me, even though my grandfather has been gone almost 30 years.

I hope one day to leave a legacy like that to someone. I hope that the words I have written or spoken, the things I have done, will inspire someone else to go out and make a difference, to do what most other people say can’t be done.

The radio still works. It takes a minute or two for the tubes to warm up, but after that it sounds as good as it ever did. Legacies are funny that way.

 

 

That Ol’ Rascal Jacob

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / Leave a comment

My name is Jacob, and I’m a con-man.

My name literally means heel-grabber, because I came out of the womb grabbing onto my brother’s heel, jockeying for position and power even then. I am a trickster, a deceiver, a huckster, a manipulator, a snake-oil salesman. I’ve been called other names that I don’t care to repeat.

I have a brother who hates me because I conned him out of a birthright and a blessing. Now I get the inheritance and he doesn’t get jack squat and he ain’t too happy about it. His words were something to the effect of, “Next time I see you, I’ll kill you.”

I have two wives because my father-in-law got me at my own game. He promised me Rachel, the pretty one, if I worked for him 7 years. But when I pulled the veil on our wedding night, it was Leah, the one with the great personality. I had to work 7 more years to get Rachel’s hand in marriage.

Now, I’m on my way back to meet up with my brother. I don’t know if he’s gonna want to shake my hand or slug me in the jaw. I know which one I’d do if I were him.

Then I get jumped out of nowhere. I’m wrestling this guy who’s way stronger than me. It’s all I can do to hold on. He says, “Let me go,” but I hold on with every bit of fight I got left in me.

He barely touches my thigh and it goes out of socket. I’ve never hurt so bad in all my born days, but still I hold on.

He says, “Lemme go,” but I say, “Not until you bless me. Not until you tell me who I really am underneath the three-piece suits and well-rehearsed lines and the lies and deceit. Tell me who I really am deep down inside.”

He says, “You are no longer Jacob, con-man, but Israel, a prince of God. Out of you will come a great nation.”

It turns out, this man was God himself. I was wrestling with the Lord Almighty. I will never walk right again, but I know who I am now and who I belong to.

I think that’s a fair trade, don’t you?

Yours truly,

Israel