[(sound of radio hum and persistent static) We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you this Special Announcement. Please do not attempt to adjust your screens. The problem is not with your monitor.]

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A Big Announcement

First – the BIG Announcement: Today’s entry marks post number – wait for it – 1,000 here at the Middle Zone! (sound of vast crowd cheering enthusiastically; roll out the proverbial red carpet; cue the band; cue the fireworks)

I mean, who woulda thunk it? Not me, that’s for sure!

To be honest (something we always strive for here at the Zone), I really had no lifelong aspirations to become a world-famous millionaire blogger/writer, I’ll tell ya. That’s right: zip, zero, nada. In fact, ‘way back in June of ’06 (practically pre-historic days in Internet time) when I posted my first profound thoughts measly chicken-scratchings, the ONLY reason I did it at all was simply to “try this weird, crazy bloggin’ thang out”, if you get my meanin’.

(Er, as to that “world-famous millionaire blogger/writer” bit… I think I can say with confidence that over the last 4.5193 years of blood, sweat and tears, working my fingers to the bone and the little ol’ gray cells into exhaustion, I’ve managed to achieve at least two out of those three descriptives. It should be obvious to all exactly which two have been accomplished.)

So how does one celebrate 1,000 posts, anyway? Why, by doing something special of course!

Now for me, “something special” usually involves, well, pie – preferably with a big ol’ scoop of Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla Ice Cream right up there on top. However, today I decided to do something completely different (miraculously involving no calories whatsoever) and submit an entry for Joanna Patterson’s group writing project instead. All month she’s been running her “The Gift of Blogging Confidence” group writing project over at Confident Writing. Since I haven’t participated in a GWP in quite some time, I thought this would be a great opportunity to jump back into the fray.

[We now return you to our regularly scheduled programming. (sound of static fades away) And what the hey; why don’cha go have yourself a Slurpee?]

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Look, Ma; I’m A Writer!

Well, I’ll tell ya; blogging over the years has certainly been the source of some surprising turns of events. I’ve had the opportunity to meet some really fantastic folks, read great thoughts on practically anything you care to name (and let’s face it; “one or two” not-so-great thoughts, too), and gained exposure to some truly amazing, well, stuff. I mean, there’s practically no end to the things there are to learn “out there” these days, is there? You know.

As for yours truly, well, blogging has given me a remarkable measure of confidence I never knew I had. After all, when it comes to recording your own thoughts and sending them out to the world… well, it takes a certain level of chutzpah, don’cha think? Why, the very idea that someone else out there would conceivably care what I think – about anything – I mean, sheesh, who knew?

The thing is, writing is something I always thought I’d be good at, even back when I was a kid. It’s just that, up until a few years ago, I simply didn’t actually, y’know, do it on a regular basis. Howsomever, once I began writing more-or-less regular-like here at the Zone, well, the rest is, as they say, history.

But if there’s one gift blogging has given me – and believe me when I say it’s one I never saw comin’ – well, that would have to be (sound of drumroll and rimshot) poetry.

Look Ma; Now I’m a Poet, Too!

Yep, now I’m not only a writer – I’m a poet, too; a statement to which my mind can’t help but respond: Uh, now how heck did that happen? Truth be told, I can barely even relate to most poetry out there. So why on earth would I start writing any of my own, much less publishing it “out there” for anyone to see and (sound of terrified scream) critique?

Not to mention, as this photo illustrates, the sheer, unmitigated agony of the bane of existence of poets everywhere: “the search for the perfect word”. (With apologies to Joyce Kilmer. – Ed.)

So how did it happen, you ask? Well, in a word – confidence! Yep, it’s that confidence I picked up from practicing what I normally do. And after doing it long enough, I finally began to think outside the box and try something different.

Oh, don’t get me wrong – I very carefully make no claims to bein’ a good poet. But I honestly think I’m learnin’ a thing or two every time one falls out onto the screen. Hey, who knows; maybe my feet really do show it? *

Poetic Moments at the Middle Zone

So for your reading pleasure torture edification whatever, here are the links to all my (insert appropriate descriptive here) poetry posts that appear here in the Middle Zone. Feel free to leave a comment and let me know how you liked them. I’d truly like to know!

First of all, here are five very short poems (written in *ahem* free verse – which, let’s be honest, is just a fancified way of sayin’ “Hey, there ain’t no rhyme or reason to this stuff!”) for a writing project sponsored by the inimitable Liz Strauss wherin each entry is limited to exactly 25 words:

• Watched
• They Were Wrong!
• Horizons
• Somersault
• Clueless

Then, since it’s poetry after all, I decided to try my hand at, y’know, actually rhyming something. (Yes, I know all poetry doesn’t have to rhyme. Still have trouble thinking that way. Just sayin’.) Interestingly enough, it seems my own photos turned out to be my greatest resource when it comes to the ol’ Muse’s poetic ramblings. Thus, my photo of a pair of spiky sycamore tree seed pods inspired this poem about my childhood days:

• Spiky Balls

Oddly enough, my two latest poems were inspired by photos of the same subject: the morning dew:

• Morning Dew
• Fallen Starlight

So what’s next, you ask? The Great American Novel? A Nobel-Prize-worthy essay? The next volume of The Toilet Time Reader? Heck, who knows? My advice is (for you and for me), let’s make sure to remain open to the possibilities. Hey, you never know what surprising little gift might next come down the pike!

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[* By the way, on the remote chance you have no idea what that sentence refers to, it’s a little rhyme I learned years ago (and therefore assume most folks have heard in one form or another), to wit: “Hey, he’s a poet! He didn’t know it; but his feet show it – they’re Longfellows!” (sound of rimshot)]

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The Promise and the Gift

There’s something really special about the promise of a gift, isn’t there?  Especially when it’s something you’ve really been looking forward to. You know what I mean, right? The comforting assurance, the delicious anticipation… and then finally getting that (fill in the blank here) you’ve been waiting for.

But… what if that “getting” part is delayed a bit? There’s nothing so agonizing, is there, as that wait for something you know you’re going to get – but haven’t yet.

All I Wanted For Christmas

Back when I was a little kid there was a certain Christmas gift (a race-car set) I’d had my eye on. You remember what that’s like, right? Starting somewhere around, oh, mid-July, I casually mentioned it to my parents to make sure they knew exactly what I wanted. At least, er, 294 times a week.

Plus, practically once a week (OK, twice… or maybe three or four times) I made sure Mom or Dad found the toy catalog lying around the house, “accidentally” fallen open to the exact page detailing the object of my desire (and conveniently circled, of course). I’m tellin’ ya, when it came to covering all the bases, I left no stone unturned! I even arranged for a friend to mention, in their presence, how they were sure they were getting’ something similar.

I’m tellin’ ya; I was devious smart, I was!

A Promise Was a Promise

Finally, the impromptu marketing campaign bore fruit: my Mom, after enduring probably the umpteenth millionth carefully-arranged “hint”, finally broke down and said two words I’d been waiting to hear: “We’ll see.” I was ecstatic!

Now, you may be thinkin’ to yourself, but that didn’t sound all that reassuring, am I right? But when it came to official pronouncements from my parents, I knew from experience that “We’ll see” was code for “You got it!” My spirits lifted to stratospheric heights.

For the rest of the year, I made sure nothing happened to mess up my chances. I scrupulously performed all my chores (that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it), ate all my vegetables (well, everything except the broccoli; no force on earth could make me do that), and made sure our cat and dog were clean, brushed, well-fed and had shiny teeth and fresh, minty breath. I’m tellin’ ya; I was the picture of a truly deserving fellow! And besides – a promise was a promise, right?

Was It Something I Did – or Didn’t Do?

The fateful Day crept closer and closer with all the swiftness of a runaway snail (you know how it always seems to take forever when you’re a kid), and once the Christmas tree was up I kept an eye out for one particular box. The days slipped by, but alas, it didn’t show.

Doubt crept in. Where was it? I wondered. Had my parents NOT bought it for me? Were they sold out? Or horror of horrors, had there been a strike at the plant and they no longer made ‘em? (It’s amazing what an overactive imagination can come up with, isn’t it?)

Christmas Eve arrived, and still – no box. I was crushed. And, although I did my best to hide it, that night as we opened our brightly-wrapped gifts, I have to admit to a sense of disappointment as my race-car set wasn’t there. I mean after all, they promised!

I know, I know; I should have been grateful for the gifts I did get. And don’t get me wrong; I was! After all, I had parents who loved me, actual gifts to call my own – I mean, by anyone’s measure I was truly rich! But still… as a kid, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was something I’d done, or forgotten to do. I remember thinking, Maybe I hadn’t been good enough.

One Last Gift

Later, after all the gifts had been opened, I put on my best face and thanked everyone for the gifts I did get. I had just given my parents a hug and was heading for bed when my Dad suddenly sat up and pointed over to a corner of the room, an innocent expression on his face. “Hey, what’s that over there?”

I turned and looked and, to my astonishment, there was a box in the corner that hadn’t been there before! (I know now my Dad sneaked it in while I wasn’t looking, but at the time, it was as if it had appeared by magic.) My little eyes got about as big as saucers as I disbelievingly stumbled over and picked it up. Sure enough; it was just what I’d wanted – the race-car set! To say my little heart was thrilled is a complete understatement.

In moments I forgot all those nagging self-doubts as I gleefully hugged my Mom and Dad, thanking them profusely for the one thing I’d wanted – and in the process, finding out that the shape of the world was, indeed, right.

The Best Gift of All

You know, when I read the Christmas story in the Bible (it’s in the book of Luke, chapters 1 and 2 if you’d like to read it for yourself), I often wonder if that’s just a tiny little bit how the Jews must have felt. I mean, over the course of thousands of years, they clung to a promise: the promise of a Savior, the Messiah. The promise had been given by God himself, sometimes directly, and sometimes through His prophets. And after all, a promise from God, well, that’s something you can pretty much take to the bank, right?

But as year after year passed by, they found themselves ending every year with a sigh and the same sad thought: Is Messiah here yet? No? Well, maybe next year…

The thing is, it’s so easy to forget one tiny little detail: in God’s eyes, timing is everything. The prophets, even as they joyfully proclaimed God’s promise to His people, understood that certain events had to fall into place first. But still, what seemed like a long delay caused even the most faithful of God’s chosen to wonder if, maybe, just maybe – they hadn’t been faithful enough.

And then one day a simple priest named Zacharias was given a remarkable message while serving in the Temple – his aged wife was having a son! And not just any son – but the forerunner of the Messiah! Not long afterwards, the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary and joyfully announced she would give birth to that very Messiah! At long last, the promise was being fulfilled: the promise and the Gift of God – the Messiah – was actually here!

Do you think his doubts, his fears and his worries about God’s promises quickly vanished -quickly replaced by complete and utter joy? I’d have to say… yes!

The Promise and the Gift

That all happened nearly 2,000 years ago, and the world has never been the same, y’know?

There’s still more promises waitin’, aren’t there? Especially my favorite one: His promise to return. Oh, I know; year after year passes, and I find myself saying, like the Jews did every year, “Maybe next year…” But I’m reminded of how Zacharias must have felt. His great hope, long delayed – well, it was discouraging, sure. But his hope wasn’t founded on just any promise – it was the promise of God Himself.

So next time you think about God’s promises, and how they may seem, at least to you, a bit delayed – try to imagine the joy that’s coming when His promise is finally fulfilled. I’ll tell ya; it’s gonna to be one spectacular party!

Have a wonderful and blessed Christmas, y’all!

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