The Winning Ticket
Heard the news today that seven state workers will share the $320 million Mega Ball Jackpot. I wonder how they came up with the term 'state workers'...not sure those two words fit together, but I digress.
Most of us won't get the winning ticket in our lifetime. We won't see the life-changing money that we dream about. We won't hit the home run to win the World Series. We will never score the game-winning goal in the Olympics. The ship won't come to shore. The train won't roar around the bend to solve our problems. We won't find a bag of cash in small, unmarked bills.
Our lives will go on...one unexciting moment after the next until the moment when we suffer through our own death.
Are you fired up yet?
But as I read the story about the lucky seven, I also considered what that money can buy...and what it can't.
Certainly my bathrooms would get bigger. I might even buy my own hot tub so I didn't have to share the water with other old, bald men. We would most certainly hire a personal chef so we could avoid the 'what do you want for dinner?' conversation. The therapeutic massages would be more frequent. I would golf every other day. Travel a little more. Get more naps. Eat a whole bunch of lobster. I would make sure that news of my books would be spread across the land and I would certainly hand some of the money out, to those that truly need it.
But the money wouldn't buy peace of mind. It certainly wouldn't guarantee love. It wouldn't calm my soul enough to allow me to live in a eternally blissful state. My health care might improve, but I certainly wouldn't be able to purchase immortality.
Freeze my head and come back to life when they solve all the problems?
Uh, no thanks.
So here I sit, feeling a little envious of those seven people who don't have to worry about dragging their butts out of bed to suffer through the same old, same old. Yet I also know that the winning ticket isn't truly out of my grasp.
I don't take a lot of stock in the fleeting riches that drives many men. Give me a world where the people I know and love are comfortable and happy. Grant me a few healthy, well-adjusted children who are free to start and live their lives free of my sins. Allow me time to laugh, time to rest, a warm bed and a soft place to lay my head.
It's funny, but this weekend my wife drove back and forth to Baltimore to pick up my mother who was spending time helping my sister recoup from a recent surgery. Nearly a thousand miles. 16 hours in the car. My wife headed out because my knee is sore and won't handle the trip and because my work has been extremely consuming in recent months.
Kathy headed out despite the fact that she wasn't feeling well. With Sam's help, she loaded Mom, Jeter and Chico into the car. She talked, shared and laughed with a woman she didn't even know twenty years ago. She did it because of love. She did it without regard for her own comfort. She did it without a word of complaint.
A winning ticket?
I cashed it in a long time ago.
And I got everything I truly need.
So when the world feels as if it is crashing down on your head, take a long look around.
I bet there's something within your reach that doesn't cost you a dollar and a dream.
Most of us won't get the winning ticket in our lifetime. We won't see the life-changing money that we dream about. We won't hit the home run to win the World Series. We will never score the game-winning goal in the Olympics. The ship won't come to shore. The train won't roar around the bend to solve our problems. We won't find a bag of cash in small, unmarked bills.
Our lives will go on...one unexciting moment after the next until the moment when we suffer through our own death.
Are you fired up yet?
But as I read the story about the lucky seven, I also considered what that money can buy...and what it can't.
Certainly my bathrooms would get bigger. I might even buy my own hot tub so I didn't have to share the water with other old, bald men. We would most certainly hire a personal chef so we could avoid the 'what do you want for dinner?' conversation. The therapeutic massages would be more frequent. I would golf every other day. Travel a little more. Get more naps. Eat a whole bunch of lobster. I would make sure that news of my books would be spread across the land and I would certainly hand some of the money out, to those that truly need it.
But the money wouldn't buy peace of mind. It certainly wouldn't guarantee love. It wouldn't calm my soul enough to allow me to live in a eternally blissful state. My health care might improve, but I certainly wouldn't be able to purchase immortality.
Freeze my head and come back to life when they solve all the problems?
Uh, no thanks.
So here I sit, feeling a little envious of those seven people who don't have to worry about dragging their butts out of bed to suffer through the same old, same old. Yet I also know that the winning ticket isn't truly out of my grasp.
I don't take a lot of stock in the fleeting riches that drives many men. Give me a world where the people I know and love are comfortable and happy. Grant me a few healthy, well-adjusted children who are free to start and live their lives free of my sins. Allow me time to laugh, time to rest, a warm bed and a soft place to lay my head.
It's funny, but this weekend my wife drove back and forth to Baltimore to pick up my mother who was spending time helping my sister recoup from a recent surgery. Nearly a thousand miles. 16 hours in the car. My wife headed out because my knee is sore and won't handle the trip and because my work has been extremely consuming in recent months.
Kathy headed out despite the fact that she wasn't feeling well. With Sam's help, she loaded Mom, Jeter and Chico into the car. She talked, shared and laughed with a woman she didn't even know twenty years ago. She did it because of love. She did it without regard for her own comfort. She did it without a word of complaint.
A winning ticket?
I cashed it in a long time ago.
And I got everything I truly need.
So when the world feels as if it is crashing down on your head, take a long look around.
I bet there's something within your reach that doesn't cost you a dollar and a dream.
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