Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
Being on the road in the solemn hours before sunrise is a singular experience. A narrow two-laned southern highway threads a course between towering black walls of pine that seem to close in from either side. In the distance ahead, impenetrable forest walls converge in the shape of a "V" while the moonlight brushes eery-soft highlights on the dark clouds above. It is at once imposing and yet comforting. There are no other vehicles around, indeed, no trace of humanity itself but for the road someone built. Safely ensconced in the climate controlled comfort of a modern behemoth, the air-ride seats cushion against undue vibration, the seat's lumbar air bag supports are inflated to reduce lower back discomfort, and the happy contemplation of one's good fortune is irresistible. To pilot so large a vehicle and yet be so insulated from the roar of the engine; to behold the darkness inside the cab broken by a beautiful array of lighted gauges; to observe the emblem of a casket flag affixed to the dash and highlighted by a soft blue light in honor of multiple generations of the family who served in our Armed Forces; to simultaneously enjoy a fresh mug of rich hot coffee and become lost in the music of Mozart filling every corner of the cab is to become in varying degrees both giddy and introspective. In such circumstances, it's easy for the mind to wander backwards to distant times and places.
There was a young boy I knew many years ago. He said he loved traveling almost more than anything else. When groups from our church would take trips he could always be found wide awake in the church van while others slept. He said he was afraid he might miss something interesting. Even his parents said that whenever their family would take long trips, he simply refused to sleep. On a choir trip to Canada in 1975, I remember seeing him sitting there, his skinny legs tucked under himself so that he could sit as high as possible and see even more. Maybe he was trying to sit as high up as the big rig drivers. I remember him saying that he wanted to drive an 18 wheeler one day. We all have dreams of course, before reality rudely shakes us by the collar, looks us squarely in the eye and tells us to make prudent choices instead. But this kid was imperviously imprudent . In fact, I have it on good authority that as young as he was, he had even selected the truck of his dreams; a black cab-over Peterbuilt with gold stripes that sprayed upward and out from the grill, widening into bold gold ribbons that wrapped around the side of the sleeper in the style that was prevalent in the '70s. I say that I have it on good authority because I was that young boy, and I couldn't wait to get behind the wheel of that monster of a truck.
Naturally, reality showed up. And equally as natural, I wasn't well inclined to listen. I savored history, literature, music and philosophy in college, but detested math. Young and audacious, I composed an agreement between the math science division and the language arts department whereby each would agree to keep numbers on one side of the campus and letters on the other side because when you mix the two together they cause people not to graduate. The response was a polite chuckle and an invitation to get back to class. So there I was sitting in college algebra, trying to determine the square root of a consonant, knowing full well that "pie are not square, pie are round," and bored half to death. My mind began to wander and daydream, as it most always did at such times, about all the places I would rather be at that particular moment. There were a great many of them that would be an improvement, I thought. In fact, a war zone sprang immediately to mind as an improvement, and the idea of military service seemed an appropriate response to the gratitude I felt for being born in America. Besides, someone had to get in there and help out after Jimmy Carter all but castrated the military, and I'd much rather be protecting that algebra class than confined to it. President Reagan provided the inspiration and, for all I know, Peter Robinson provided the words. I bid reality a fond farewell and signed up for 20 years of unforgettable experiences and earned a PhD in deep appreciation for what a truly exceptional country we live in. But when it came time to hang up the uniform, that little boy spoke to me across the decades and again bid me consider that child's innocent dream. Oh, why the hell not!
Over 35 years later, the sun is starting to rise. Misty patches of early morning fog rest in open fields as the imposing darkness yields first to hues of blue and purple in the eastern sky. Turning lighter by the minute, the sky forms a pale backdrop to a legion of foreboding clouds. The forecast calls for rain today. But even these dark airborne cauldrons of rain and lightning blush warmly in the sun's presence, their smallest details revealed in stunning layers of the softest pink and red. The words of the psalmist ring true:
When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers,
The moon and the stars which You have ordained;
What is man that You take thought of him,
And the son of man that You care for him?
In his wonderful conversation with Peter Robinson on Uncommon Knowledge, Dr. David Berlinski recommended the Old Testament as a good starting point for college freshmen, to which I agree and respectfully add the experience of a simple majestic sunrise as remarkably effective in re-ordering the mental and spiritual equilibrium of students of all ages. Whether or not such an experience stands as proof of the existence of God is a subjective analysis of course. Some people, after all, require stone tablets. But driving across such an exquisite landscape, soaking in the vast and infinite beauty of the heavens and the earth, one is left with a very powerful and singular emotion: Gratitude. Gratitude for a bountiful land, for a loving family, for liberty itself, and for people with the fortitude to defend it all. I can't help but reject the idea that America's best days are behind her. Somehow, some way, we will prevail. That's what Americans do.
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Mar '11
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
Beautiful.
I adore your writing. It is simply magnificent, and so profoundly resonant with what I know to be true.
Though I would clarify one point: seeing beauty in nature often confuses the mind. Nature is beautiful because it reflects the choices made by its Creator. But when people appreciate natural beauty, they often assume that this means that nature is also good, which it most assuredly is not. Nature cares not one whit whether you live or die. Goodness is reserved for those who consciously make the right choices.
Edited on Sep 23, 2011 at 10:00amJun '10
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
You brought up Mozart, so take this Bucko:
Translated from the Italian Soave sia il Vento means Sweet/soft as the wind.
Edited on Sep 23, 2011 at 10:06amJun '11
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
Beautiful, Dave. Simply beautiful.
May '10
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
Beautifully thought and written Dave.
Isaiah 6:1-3:
.. I saw also the LORD sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, and his train filled the temple. Above it stood the seraphims: each one had six wings; with twain he covered his face, and with twain he covered his feet, and with twain he did fly.
And one cried unto another, and said, Holy, holy, holy, is the LORD of hosts: the whole earth is full of his glory.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XrpBUEOtrus&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rM9bavYuoAc&feature=related
Missa Solemnis - Sanctus, Benedictus with Staatskapelle Dresden,
By Ludwig Van Beethoven (who was already tone deaf by this stage, so this was all composed within that brilliant tragic mind of his).
Edited on Sep 23, 2011 at 10:14amMay '10
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
Wow, Dave!
iWc: Beautiful.
I adore your writing. It is simply magnificent, and so profoundly resonant with what I know to be true...
Exactly.
Your post reminded me of Psalms 19:1-4a: "The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world."
Sep '11
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
Thank you. This brought goosebumps to my arms and a lump to my throat.
Sep '11
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
Dave, I paid $3.58 just to be able to say Thank you.
Jun '10
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
And wasn't it worth the money?!! Let me have a wack...THANK YOU Dave Carter.
Glad you didn't waste any time on math lessons.
May '10
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
You're a good man, Dave Carter.
Apr '11
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
Driven Mad: Trucking Industry Collapsing Under Regulation
"Foolish laws are hampering America's lifeblood industry, and making drivers more tired to boot.
Regulations which are often written by people with no idea of the realities of the road — not one sitting congressman has ever been an OTR truck driver — are often impractical at best. At worst, they are impossible to follow. From the AJC dispatch:
The Department of Transportation’s Hours of Service regulation, written to prevent accidents caused by driver fatigue, is one example. The rule says CMV drivers may only work 14 hours a day — 11 actually driving — and the driver must keep a logbook of the total hours spent driving and resting. It sounds sensible, but the regulation doesn’t account for the reality of the road.
You got drivers going into these places to load, and sat eight to ten hours. That’s on the clock,” said Mr. Grove. “If they sit there eight hours, they can only drive three hours. If we didn’t get our mileage in, it don’t matter. Once your 14 hours are up, it’s up.”
http://pajamasmedia.com/blog/driven-mad-trucking-industry-collapsing-under-regulation/?singlepage=true
May '10
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
I love that picture, Dave!
Oops. I got so distracted by the picture, I forgot to read your post. Off to the Dr., but I'll read and comment when I get back.
Jul '10
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
Wonderful writing, as always, Dave. Safe travels!
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
Welcome, Maggie!
Dave: Beautifully done. And for what it's worth, I'm with you. Even though I'm a lawyer, I don't require stone tablets for this one.
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
Maggie, now it is you who has given me a case of lumpy throat that I'm sure no doctor can cure. Thank you so very much. I am honored. And above all, Welcome to the conversation! Please feel free to have a look around the place, kick the tires (not all 18 of them, though). We are better for having you here.
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
GingerB, those are the same reactions I experienced driving down that road. If I can convey at least a portion of that, and some sense of the gratitude that fills my heart, then I'm happy to do so. And thank you, very kindly.
May '10
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
Dave, if you ever get to the Sacramento area it'd be my privilege to buy you _____ (fill in the blank with whatever coffee, dessert, or meal is on your schedule) as a modest recompense for the delight I derive from your writing.
Wonderful!
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
iWc: ...
Though I would clarify one point: seeing beauty in nature often confuses the mind. Nature is beautiful because it reflects the choices made by its Creator. But when people appreciate natural beauty, they often assume that this means that nature is also good, which it most assuredly is not. Nature cares not one whit whether you live or die. Goodness is reserved for those who consciously make the right choices. · Sep 23 at 9:48am
Edited on Sep 23 at 10:00 am
Yes, exactly true. Thank you for pointing that out so persuasively.
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
Cas Balicki: You brought up Mozart, so take this Bucko:
Translated from the Italian Soave sia il Vento means Sweet/soft as the wind. · Sep 23 at 9:57am
Edited on Sep 23 at 10:06 am
Bucko like!
Jun '10
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
Dave Carter
Cas Balicki: You brought up Mozart, so take this Bucko:
Translated from the Italian Soave sia il Vento means Sweet/soft as the wind. · Sep 23 at 9:57am
Edited on Sep 23 at 10:06 am
Bucko like! · Sep 23 at 2:26pm
It's one of my favourite arias, and a more than apt comparison to your essay this morning. I'm not your crying type, but when I haven't heard this aria for some time, and I play it, the first time through brings a lump to my throat. This is my way of saying, Dave, that I could not pay you a higher compliment. Thank you.
Edited on Sep 23, 2011 at 3:27pmDec '10
Re: Amidst Chaos, Gratitude
The combination of precision amidst chaos is the literal sign of God’s interventions and miracles…