tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54858931946262509102024-03-13T09:24:01.506-04:00Jonathan WritesThe bloggings of Jonathan Barber.Jonathan Barberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09859387006855514827noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485893194626250910.post-4158264167494808532012-07-05T12:33:00.004-04:002012-07-05T12:33:31.847-04:00The DriverSo I am on vacation in New Jersey and my friends Jason and Bert took me out golfing. I fell in love with it even though I suck. Apparently in the beginning, everyone sucks. I have also been hearing from all my friends, family, family friends, and random acquaintances that going into the field of finance, and now into law, I absolutely have to know how to golf.<div>
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While watching some television this morning, I happened to randomly look on craigslist to see if anyone in the South Jersey area was selling golf clubs at a reasonable rate. Here's what I find:</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Kje_QwgFJsw/T_W_IhulMCI/AAAAAAAAAIU/qPaW2dMHSC8/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-07-05+at+12.07.59+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="575" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Kje_QwgFJsw/T_W_IhulMCI/AAAAAAAAAIU/qPaW2dMHSC8/s640/Screen+Shot+2012-07-05+at+12.07.59+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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Having no plans for the rest of the morning, I decide to head over to this thrift store and buy my first few clubs. So I walk in, find the clubs in a corner, and start picking out the ones that go together to form a whole set. After I grab all the irons I need, I grab a driver out of the bunch and suddenly I find myself stunned. On the top of this driver is engraved "CUSTOM BUILT FOR J. Barber"</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EcRgAfPVtnE/T_W_M1caCPI/AAAAAAAAAIc/7E9Lt88UOXY/s1600/photo+%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EcRgAfPVtnE/T_W_M1caCPI/AAAAAAAAAIc/7E9Lt88UOXY/s320/photo+%25281%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Wow. I showed the guy at the counter and he was blown away too. I just love when God does little things like this in my life to remind me that He is looking out for me. Occurrences like this always lift my spirits and urge me to praise God. And I know, I know, this is one of the "little things." So I leave you with this: Praise God for the little things so that you don't forget to praise Him for the big things.</div>Jonathan Barberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09859387006855514827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485893194626250910.post-4076541561975230042012-06-18T18:29:00.002-04:002012-06-18T18:42:25.170-04:00Rough Days, Wrong Turns, and Divine Appointments<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've had a long couple of days at my job recently with a lot of busy, intern-esque work. It all culminated in one really long day today with a lot of random tasks and I was left drained at the end of the day, wanting nothing more than to go back to my apartment, recline and watch a movie or two on Netflix. However, God had a different plan.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To preface, every day on the way home from work, I pass an older black man who sits on his front porch. As I drive by him, I always wave and he waves back with this look that just screams "who the heck is this kid?" Nevertheless, he continues to wave back to me every single day. I decided that I wanted to meet this guy someday, but I can't exactly park my car on the road he lives on because it's very busy and there is no space to park on either side of the road. So I guess that while I have continued to wave at him every day, I subconsciously had given up on stopping to say hello. <b><u>God does not care what I decide to do subconsciously.</u></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So recently, I've been running a lot and trying
to get in better shape, so I decided to go for a run. Well I mapped
out my run on<b> </b></span><a href="http://www.mapmyrun.com/" style="font-weight: bold;">www.MapMyRun.com</a><b> </b>and it came out to exactly 3.15 miles. I
was quite alright with that, since I know I can run a 5k. Right
before I left for my run, my friend Daniel Garcia texted me and asked if I
wanted to go to Moe's for our traditional "Moe Monday" meal.
After a minute or so of hesitation, I told him I would have to pass
because I'm "watching my wallet and my weight." That was a hard
choice because, let's be honest, Moe's burritos are awesome... especially when
they are all $5.55 with chips and a drink on Mondays. Anyways, I head out
on my run and after about two miles, I find myself in a very run down area of
Lynchburg that I have never seen before. Everyone was sitting out on
their porches, having a good time and the houses were all significantly run
down. For a minute or so, I thought I was running down a street in
Jamaica. Everybody was so friendly and they all waved back and said hello
when I waved at them. I was blessed in those few minutes running down
that street.<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next thing I know, I have missed my turn and I
have no idea where I am. So I decide to turn left onto some random street and
about half a mile down the road, I see a street sign that I'm familiar with.
As I turn and continue on my run, I suddenly realize that I am on the
street I take home every day and that I'm about to pass that older man's house.
I got so excited that I started sprinting. Sprinting does not go
well with me by the way, I'm a chubby kid. As I came to the top of the hill
where this man's house is, I see him sitting on his front porch and he waves at
me as I approach. Now I'm wondering if he waves to everybody or if he
actually recognizes me outside of my car. So I wave back when I'm around
five feet away from this guy and I stop and introduce myself.
"Hello, I'm Jonathan, I drive by here every day and wave."
He looks right at me and says, in a deep, heavily accented voice, "I
know, I wave back every day. My name is Samuel." At least I
think he said Samuel, this guy's voice was all kinds of rough. We shook
hands and I asked him if that was where he lived. He said it was, and
that was it. I told him I would see him around. As I left his front
porch and continued running back to my apartment, I told God I would go back
and get to know this guy because I felt God laying it on my heart to just talk
to him. I have every intention of running that same route, which is very
hilly and slightly strenuous, so that I can learn more about this man's life.</span><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Moral of the story: We don't make wrong turns.
Every single footstep of ours has been planned out by God and is a part
of His plan. I am overjoyed to see the opportunity to do God's work.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</b>Jonathan Barberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09859387006855514827noreply@blogger.com0