Text from friend: ..I'm OK thanks. Wrestling with trying to replace a wheel on our Pajero. You'd think that should be a simple task. Not quite.
Yes, still journaling through John's Gospel and being blessed.
Did crosswind landings lesson today. Very tricky but I'm getting there. …
That wheel. The stubborn thing! Did you get it?
Or find it was the wrong one for the task?
This mastering the world, to help it sing,
and clap, & dance, & play, & work's an ask.
To come as tiny babies needing teaching,
not turkeys of the scrub, that come from egg,
then straightaway run off and live this thing
called life, it's programmed in, no need to beg.
But we, on other hand, with aspirā-
tions, hopes and dreams that build up as we go,
are born with things like sucking, perspirā-
tion, reflex actions, none of which we know.
Unless someone enlists as our support-
er, we don't get to walk or talk, or think.
There's no one born on Earth, a son or daught-
er, knows it when they're born - like they can blink.
We only learn from others & a cult-
ure, what a human means, and how it works.
From others' trials and errors, like a vult-
ure, we can pick the bones. Unless we're jerks
who think we made our lives, like scrub turkeys,
though they seem mostly programmed from the start.
The choices that we make to learn to please
another, over us; now that's an art!
And when another knows more than we do,
and teaches us, to help us on our way,
it's being faithful to that art, and you
might thus be blessed to fly. Hip, hip, hurray!
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