Adventure by Ollie

A Search for Purpose in a Random World


June 2014

A Time of Testing


Recently, I took the first of three certification exams. This first test was so much harder than I thought it would be, and I had studied so hard for so long. I thought I was prepared, but I wasn’t. I think I failed. This makes me so ANGRY!!! (My impersonation of a dragon has improved.) I worked too hard to be unprepared! Was all the time spent studying a waste? I HATE waiting. I can’t bear the suspense. After a week, I called to find out how much longer before the test results were in, and was told it might be 4 – 6 weeks.

On the drive home yesterday, a beautiful acoustic guitar song with mellow harmonies broke my heart. Was my preparation a waste, and the time spent waiting – what does it mean? Does it have any worth?

I wrestle with doubts and I am uncertain.

(P.S. 6/25/14: I PASSED MY TEST!)


I’ve always heard people say math is the universal language; they were wrong. The universal language, one which everyone can understand, is love.

Just me, stopping traffic…

female cardinal

Random, ordinary, commonplace; these are words I would use to describe my recent drive into town, just regular life. Nothing special. And then suddenly, a bird. My car windows were down, so I even heard it chirping. There, in the middle of the road, was a hurt female cardinal. It was still alive. The car in front of me passed, and barely missed the bird. I turned around and pulled over. From the side of the road I grabbed a discarded Hardies bag, and walked into the middle of the road to where she lay, dazed and struggling. She had been hit, but she wasn’t bleeding. I set aside the brown paper stretcher – since it was not needed. She had a bright tuft of red for her crown, and a strong orange beak. I picked her up and held her in my hands. She looked at me. The expression in her eye was one of fear and worry, but after examining her wings, I decided she would soon be fine.

On the side of the road was a smallish sort of wilderness. Beside a tree with strong branches, I held open my hand for her. She stood up, stumbled, then stood up again with greater strength than at first. She remained perched there, on my hand. Her delicate claws mastered me. She was a tiny Queen, and I her servant. The weight of her body as she leaned into me, trusting me, was perfect. Eden had come to me, in that moment, with arms wide open.

Random, ordinary, commonplace; these are words I have used to describe my life -nothing special. Then suddenly, a bird. Suddenly, a miracle, and Eden is near again. There is nothing random, ordinary, or commonplace about any of us, and we must never forget this.

Duck Tape and a Few Loose Screws

As I pulled into my driveway this afternoon, I saw a troubling sight – my mailbox, which had once stood proud and erect with silent postal dignity, lay on the ground, mouth wide open, tongue flapping in the wind, like a dead dog on the side of the street.  It’s contents, my mail, had been spewed projectile fashion from within its stomach and now lay listless in the grass.  Someone, I don’t know who, must have hit it hard with the most giant of baseball bats, because the four 3 inch screws had been gutted from the solid four by four beam that held the mailbox.  The support beam was also loose with screws unhinged and wearing the weary expression of a war-torn soldier – it held onto the post for dear life, and nodded in the direction of its departed comrade.

I patted the poor mailbox with it’s many gross fractures, and said, “There, there, it’s going to be all right.”  I collected and organized my mail (which means I threw it away), and headed into the house to get my hammer.  Back outside, I worked on resuscitating my mailbox.  I tried to reattach the mailbox to its post, and failed (because you can’t hammer screws).  I realized, pretty quickly, that I needed a power tool of some sort, which I lacked, so it was time for the heavy duty end all solution to every single repair situation ever encountered by any man, woman, or child in the entire cosmos: duck tape.





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