I was driving to a meeting the other day and became increasingly frustrated as slow drivers strategically prevented me from arriving on time. It's as if everyone knew I had an appointment and decided to give me smiles accompanied with middle fingers at 20 mph in a 45 mph zone. Only worse, I was driving to Roosevelt's today (local pub in McAllen) for some writing and was on my own time and the same conspirators, for fun, decided to pursue me. As I sat up straight in a gallantly appropriate position to cuss them out, it hit me. And this is where we begin... We are the generation that is focused on the $100 dollar bill in the middle of the freeway that we ignore oncoming traffic. We are the generation that is firmly lusting after the finish line that we forget about the race. Amigos, where did the time go?

We are a generation gasping for air in the shallow end of the pool that we're too stupid to stand up. We are a generation who wants everything for the now to live in the future, but forget that our present from God is the present we're in and we suffocate by agenda. Amigos, where did the time go?

The drivers of the Rio Grande Valley taught me something extremely important on both of my frustrated occasions: I can't beat the clock. Now, while that may be a shock to some readers, allow me to continue. Rather than full describing the Valley, let me simply say that it's an area where time doesn't exist for the majority of the residents, change isn't biblical or appreciated, and several of the cities are a representation of what the Valley once was and people are happy with that.

I live in a progressively aggressive generation and the Valley, while a great place to realize one's potential for growth, is a great place of reminder. Time doesn't exist here because no one is in a rush to be anywhere and the appreciation for what used to be is nurtured because I'm too focused on the expansion of what I think I own, am entitled to, or deserve.

Amigos, la raza del Valle are not conspirators, but some of the only remaining survivors of time and have been placed in our direction in order to point us back to humility. The question is, who's expansion are you living for?

¡Salud!

Oso

7:00 a.m. I have one of those obnoxious alarm clocks that sound off and don't let you sleep. Yeah, I don't like those.

Any of them.

Every morning is a struggle to get out of bed. It's such a struggle that for about the first 20 minutes I lay in contemplation about, not only, my day but the internal battle of early rising. That's what I call it. The Battle of Early Rising. I just came up with that.

What makes me wake up? No one asks me that. I asked myself.

Often it's the weight of the work that lies ahead of me. It's the meetings that come with talks. It's the logistics on the 8 foot white board. It's the systems that have yet to be called systems. It's the policies that don't even know they're policies yet. And it's the sound of a blender, faint in the distance, that's in my mind.

Despite the day's events, it's the thought of Jesus as my dad that helps me wake up. I think about my earthly pops too and what his days look like, what they've looked like over the years.

You see, my earthly pops was and still is gangsta'. That man considers 6:30 a.m. sleeping in. A professional trouble maker in his day led to the success of dropping out of college which led to answering the call of the draft in 1968 by the U.S. Government during the Vietnam War. After his service in the Army, he moved back to the motherland: Mexico. There he realized he needed a real job because he met my mom who I call "mum." Not only did my pops woe her with broken Spanish, he put himself back into college to receive, both, an undergraduate and graduate degree in Spanish. This guy.

Setting aside the romantic details, my pops worked as an elementary teacher in his early days of education, was a cook at the local Country Omelette restaurant, went to graduate school full-time, drove to and from the motherland, worked at the store he helped run (located in Mexico), helped my mum raise my brothers, and then did it all over again the next day because it's what needed to get done.

His secret? The desire for his boys to live a better life and coffee.

Now, where does Jesus and the oddity of a blender come into play? Simple.

My earthly pops did what ever it took to simply provide and exemplify provision for his boys. The call was service and obedience. Jesus teaches me the same.

The bible records these two things: (1) Jesus came to serve not to be served and (2) Jesus was sent to do the will of the Father. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus is constantly serving, loving, teaching, equipping, and in community with his boys. Jesus also woke up crazy early to go and pray to prepare for the day that was ahead of him. And Jesus answered the call to place Himself before his boys.

My pops served his boys as best as he could: making old school Army breakfasts, taught us how to BBQ, and showed us responsibility and ethic. He woke up crazy early to reflect on his day. And he answered the call to provide for his family which meant putting himself last.

Thinking about Jesus and my pops as examples are my reason for waking up to face the Battle of Early Rising. My pops and Jesus both said it would be difficult. It wouldn't be called a battle if it wasn't difficult. The objective was the call so the purpose could be fulfilled. For my pops, it's seeing his boys provide and seeing them accomplished. For Jesus, it was to conquer sin so that I may live.

And the blender, you ask?

Unlike my pops who drinks coffee first thing in the morning, I like to have a huge shake filled with 10 eggs, 1 banana, a scoop of protein, 2 handfuls of blueberries, a handful of strawberries, a handful of blackberries, and a spoon-full of almond butter. Blend that stuff up and you have yourself a Bear Claw. Only after can I have coffee.

Enjoy, amigos.

Oso.