Perspective

God gave us an interesting organ when he formed us from the dust of the earth and breathed into us the breath of life: He gave us a brain.

The brain is singularly unique. We use it every day and yet it is so misunderstood that people, intelligent people, still cling to the notion that we only use a scant ten percent of it. One look at a MRI shows just how many areas of the brain are in operation at any one time. As stimuli vary, the brain will show the areas called upon, and the scan will light up like a distant thunderstorm on a dry summer night.


Yes, some people ACT like they have only the ten percent capacity, but the potential is nonetheless still there.


I think new thoughts and experiences are stored in the brain by a little old man left in charge of a filing system he doesn't quite understand. He stores them here and there to the best of his ability, but then he'll get the notion that he's mishandled something and look back into one filing cabinet or another. Suddenly a thought springs to mind and you have no idea where it came from.

Occasionally the little old man takes a handful of caffeine, or Benedryl, or perhaps Viagra... Things speed up, slow down, or.... okay, he often strung out on Viagra, but that's another post.

Sometimes he just opens file at random.


This past weekend I took a wonderful little mini-vacation with my lovely wife. We enjoyed the beauty of southern Indiana, did our own little pub crawl in Bloomington, and then spent the night in a 200 year-old hotel overlooking the mighty Ohio River.


We also stopped at an outlet mall.... again, fodder for another post.

I was enjoying a fine dinner with a view of The River when the demented little file handler spilled a folder: Now I'm left to ponder how much I miss having rice and beans several times a week, and how much I appreciate the fact that I DO know where my next meal is coming from.

One of my duties at The King's Home in Belize was to help pack up lunch for the grade school kids into small plastic containers and to transport them to the school at exactly noon. Their lunch consisted of a little helping of rice and beans, with maybe a small piece of stewed chicken or perhaps a hot dog slice or two.


Sometimes they would finish and still be hungry and I didn't didn't have anything else to feed them.


Whenever the Keeper Of The Files lets that memory out, I truly appreciate everything I have in my life.