To: The 2001 Me From: The 2011 Me

I have this website that sends out an email, www.pw.org and one of their things is a poetry and fiction prompt newslettery thing.  This week’s poetry prompt (that I’m taking my sweet time on) is to write a poem/letter to oneself from 10 years ago.  I copied down the idea in a notebook last night, and I started thinking about this thing today.  Will I spit in the face of the Back to the Future movies and alter time?  Hey, I’m sure that with some help from the future me I could have gotten a sports bet right.  I’m thinking: Appalachian State over Michigan (come on, how many of us Mountaineers really thought it would happen?)

What about practical things that would/should apply no matter what?  Dude, stay away from credit cards and learn who Dave Ramsey is!  That would have been really nice if a future me came and told me that.  There’s other practical advice, too.  Probably about wasting time and complaining about not having any.  Isn’t it funny that when we’re younger we think there’s just no time, but when we start to travel down the road a bit, even a decade, we realize how much time we really had?

I started to think about all the stuff that’s happened in my life over the past ten years.  I’ve gotten a Masters in music, said “no mas” to school, and in 2008 started in seminary.  That’s just God’s sense of humor right there, folks!  I met a beautiful girl at a party after a football game in 2001.  We dated, got engaged, got married, bought a house, sold a house, rented and moved more times than I care to think about, had a beautiful baby girl, moved to another state, had career changes, then had a beautiful baby boy.  A busy ten years on the family front.  I didn’t realize I’d teach band ten years ago… I was going to take the world by storm with my trumpeting prowess.  My former self would need to know some things about teaching band (because he tuned a lot of it out in college when he should have been paying attention!)

The last thing I wonder about is whether I’d tell myself about Jesus.  That’s the biggest thing that’s happened in the past 10 years.  With all the other accomplishments, events, accolades, and what not- that has been the most important development in my life.  In that time travel is not a possibility for humans, I’d say this sort of evangelism isn’t really mandated in the Great Commission.  But if I had the chance, I would.  At 23 I wasn’t interested in Christianity, actually I thought that Christians were party-poopers!  I have the feeling, though, that it wouldn’t have changed God’s plan and purpose for my life.  It would actually, in a cyclical sort of way, fulfill and fall in line with His plan.

So, if you had the chance, what would you say to yourself from 10 years ago?

Until next time!

Here Goes Nothing

A few weeks ago I mentioned that I was contemplating putting some of the writing I’ve done on the blog.  Well, I’m not going to post that particular short story but I decided to share a poem I’ve “written” recently.  It was the product of a writing prompt, but I thought it was pretty neat.  The prompt came from the Poets & Writers website (www.pw.org), and the idea was to pick ten random words from a dictionary and then create a poem.  I thought this was an interesting challenge.  When one of the words was ‘Lithuanian’ I realized it really was going to be tough!  I’ve put the ten words in bold within the poem below.  (Remember, one of my words was ‘Lithuanian’ for goodness sake!)  Here it is, hope you enjoy!

An Exercise of Life

by David Saleeba

In a deadpan tone I remarked

that I hope to graduate soon.

If one can only matriculate,

then a new life, new adventure is ahead of them.

Life, though, can be a lonesome and scary venture.

Consider that a Lithuanian in the Wild Southwest

would have stuck out like a sore thumb

amongst captious residents

waiting for his demise.

The brave soul attempting life should be

as a beacon, a symbol, of the boldness

needed for a life lived on this planet.

Yes, the bluebird of spring and his happiness

meets the exasperation of a gloomy reality.

Our existence lies in the sediment

waiting to be stirred and to start anew

in the current of life;

To get caught in the excitement of brass, and of woodwinds, strings and percussion

in this great orchestral masterpiece.