Happy Independence Day, everyone! My weekend has included time spent lifting iron with friends, worship as a guest guitar player at my buddy's church, and some basic rest at home with the missus. Festive neighborhood, here in the Buckhead singles district, but most of the people "celebrating" are doing it in such a way that they will not remember it. Just north of here, there's the annual Peachtree Road Race, where the streets are blocked. Just south of here, nobody's American. I wonder what they're all doing? Probably watching Krapistan on World Cup and singing along to the vuvuzelas. If I'd gotten on the road earlier or made plans a little farther out of the neighborhood, I'd be celebrating the anniversary of my nation by blowing up a small part of it with fireworks.
First, I am grateful for freedom to hold to a moral center of my own. I am glad to be a follower of Jesus. I know people who have to lie about their faith to survive, women treated as second-class humans, and people providing love and care to those abandoned by their local culture. I do not support legalizing required Christian behavior because I don't want some other faith to come along and make my beliefs illegal in the next election. That's not what our government's here for. We are blessed to be free to not just follow but to "believe". If that word "blessed" not part of your vocabulary, feel free to say you are "damned lucky" to be American, whatever the rest of the world says. Pardon my French, the phrase fits.
I'm glad for a new season of "Anthony Bourdain - No Reservations" starting tomorrow night. I'm glad for Moto GP, and I pray for Vale's quick recovery, though Lorenzo is a prince and has totally come into his own. I'm glad for American-made Gibson guitars and Russian kettlebells and Japanese motorcycles. There, I said that. I've had four Italian and one German, and I'm glad I have Japanese bikes. They run.
I could go on, but I'm grateful to be healthy, employed, housed, and clean. Not nearly grateful enough.