4th of July Fireworks (Otherwise known as "Being Called a Russian Communist")

Well, we had a great 4th of July weekend as a family in 2014 doing what many other Minnesota families do to celebrate Independence Day - we went up north to the lake. So cliche isn't it? I know, it is.  We had a wonderful time visiting my parents who live in their retirement home, what used to be our family cabin.  Some of the fun things we did were tube, ride the four wheeler, ride on a motorcycle, fish, and play cards.  It always feels so good to get away for a few days and listen to the waves kiss the rocks of the shoreline and watch the sun set over the smooth blue water.  There is just something refreshing about being buried deep under the blanket of trees and northern stars.

This trip up north included a little bonus action.  Friday night we had a bit of a dust up with a man and his kids who were fishing close to my dad's dock and shoreline.  The guy in the boat seemed liked he's had a couple two, three beers and he and my dad shared a few words about property rights, Russian communism, and the nice weather (ok, they didn't discuss the weather).  I came running out of the cabin when I heard them "discussing" the situation.  Normally I'm not a real physically aggressive guy. I prefer to beat people up over a keyboard or at least with a nice one-two punch of passive aggressiveness and sarcasm.  However, in this case, I didn't feel good about my sixty four year old dad having words with a slightly drunk guy threatening to get out of his boat (wonder if he could have walked on water like Peter and Jesus? Hmmm?) without me at least being there to watch my dad whoop him!

Eventually our unwelcome visitor gave up the shouting and drove away.  I say eventually because before he left he let me know he'd be happy to knock 40 lbs off my fat butt (or some words similar to those) if I wanted to keep standing there and waving goodbye to him (which I did).  When he left I couldn't help but think through the situation and ask myself some questions.

- What would I have done if he really did get out of the boat?
- How would Jesus have handled that situation in my place?
- Why did he have to say 40 lbs?  Twenty-five I would understand but do I really need to lose 40?

I didn't let the encounter ruin my weekend but it did remind me that there are a lot of people out there in this world who are immature adults, ready to fly off the handle at some pretty stupid stuff.  It also reminded me that representing Jesus when I'm angry or feeling threatened can be difficult.  Finally it inspired to me take a look at myself and honestly deal with the weight I've gained from my cushy desk job.  Next time I don't want to give anyone the opportunity to take a shot at me like that.