One year later, and it still hurts.

It has been said that time heals all. I disagree. I think that time simply fades the wounds aesthetically, but they never really go away. It was a year ago today that one of my closest friends, Katie Prosapio, moved from earth to heaven quickly and tragically. I paid tribute to her last week shortly after the accident, but I do not believe that one page does enough justice. I do not believe that what I am about to write will do enough justice either, but it is my humble homage to an amazing person.

As I thought about what I wanted to say, a lot of memories came to mind. I could talk about Katie's fierce competitive drive, to the point that she would actually play basketball against the boys at Stone. One time she actually wound up blocking my shot, but don't worry, the next shot she took I sent flying 15 feet across the court. That's how she wanted me to play. She didn't want any special treatment because she was a girl. But that's not what I'm going to remember the most.

I could also talk about how Katie was the kind of friend who knew when you needed a good kick in the pants and gave it to you -- literally. One night after church service I was whining about something to someone when I felt a strong boot directly to my posterior. I turned around, and there was Katie laughing. She knew exactly what I needed at that moment. She always knew when somebody needed that special something to get them going in the right direction. Again, that's not what I will take from Katie's life.

I could talk about how she played life by her set of rules. She threw herself a 16th Birthday Party almost three months after the fact. We all went to the bowling alley and had the time of our lives celebrating something that had long already happened. When she was opening her gifts, she even had the audacity to say "This doesn't feel like my birthday." with a straight face. That particular event could probably epitomize Katie, but it won't.

There are two things about Katie that I'll never forget. She loved God, and she loved people. Really, that's all that's important, and she realized that. She was willing to follow after God with everything she had, and even talked about how awesome it would be to die for the faith. I believe she was indeed a martyr; her life was sacrificed so that others might truly experience the fullness of God. She also loved people. Boy, did she love people. I don't know if I've met anyone since with such a capacity to care for people. Her ability to make people feel comfortable (and occasionally uncomfortable) was uncanny.

I believe that Katie's life can be summed up in this statement: She loved God, and she loved people. I miss her dearly, but I know that she's where she wanted to be all along.

The Price of Progress

I've said it before, and I know I'll say it again many times in the future, two of the most important aspects of life are balance and progress. I strongly believe in this, and it has become the core of my personal philosophies. However, I have come to realize that progress comes with a price.

As I have said before, the advent and spread of the internet has opened countless doors, both positive and negative, so I will not waste my time and yours by talking about it. I will talk, however, about one technological advance of the past century or so and how it serves as a vital portion of my life while being the ultimate cause of others' demise.

As most of you know, I am a commuter student at Olivet. That way, I can live my life as a student as well as keep my same life at home, church, and work. That would not be possible if I didn't have my car. My trusty silver 2005 Chevy Cobalt is my lifeline between Bourbonnais and Tinley Park. Without it, I couldn't possibly do what I do. I would be pretty helpless without my car.

Conversely, vehicles have left an indelible mark on the community of the Stone Church. It was just under a year ago that Katie Prosapio, one of my closest friends, was taken from the world when her vehicle hit another. Not a day goes by that I don't think about that as well as how much I miss her. I could go on and on about the importance she had on myself and on our close circle of friends, but that will be more appropriate at another time.

Sadly, the angel of death has used the automobile as its vehicle of destruction again, taking from us another member of the Stone community. While I am not going to pretend that I knew her well or had established a meaningful relationship, I will say that she was a valuable component of the church, and that many are going to feel the sting of this loss for some time.

So, that brings me to the title of the blog. Progress comes at a price. Were it not for the creation of the automobile, we may not be devoid of these two young women. I do believe, however, that God has impeccable timing and that it is not our place to question his decision-making. I am not advocating going Amish and forsaking all technology. But it gets you to thinking about progress. Progress, while important and highly valuable, is not without a cost. As we live our lives, we must decide whether the cost of things outweighs the value. This is not only applicable for tangible technological items, but for the intrinsic processes that occur for mental and emotional progress. Remember, the cost of progress might lead to some uncomfortable times, but forsaking progress might lead to a live unlived.

I'm better than this

As I begin the last three weeks before Jakob Duehr XX (which will be a yearlong celebration, mind you), I have thought about some things. Most of all I have thought about progress. Probably the two most common things I write about are balance and progress. Upon thinking about it, I realized that my progression has only been a partial one.

The past seven years I have progressed in more than a few ways. Physically, I have gone from 6'0 tall, 130 pounds to somewhere between 6'4 and 6'5 and 215 pounds. I traded in football jerseys for polos and glasses for contacts. I no longer run on my toes or have my voice crack.

As far as confidence goes, I finally got some. Probably a bit too much. I never thought I was good enough to be accepted by certain people or talk to certain girls. This lack of confidence caused some erratic behavior. I called a girl and hung up 30 times in a day. Yeah, creepy. I used to rely solely on online communication to "work my game". Thankfully, those days are past. While I am not experiencing any sustained success, minor victories have provided me with something to build on.

I began my teenage years in 7th grade at the Stone Church Christian Academy. I progressed through there while keeping my core group of friends and moved on to Tinley Park High School. While that experience was certainly tumultuous, I learned some valuable lessons by falling on my face, and all in all, I'd have to say my time there was a success. Now I am at Olivet Nazarene University, and I really don't have much longer there, either. I have gone from awkward adolescent to a stone's throw away from moving on to my career. I guess you'd call that progress.

For all this progress I've made, there has been one major impediment. It all stems from my desire to hold on to the past. I recently purchased some DVDs that were relics of my childhood. I have constantly tried to keep a connection with girls I was interested in during my younger days because I have held out the hope that they'd finally give me a chance. I live in the current with one eye looking in the rear-view mirror. But today I had an epiphany. It is an epiphany that I believe will produce progress for anyone who experiences it.

This epiphany was a short little phrase: "I'm better than this." For so long, I felt that I needed to wait for things just in case. I don't need that. I am nobody's backup plan or insurance policy. I am better than that. I don't need to ponder what once was or what could have been continually. It is behind and below me. Life is what it is, nothing more, nothing less. I am tired of holding myself down for that fleeting hope or that relic of what once was. I'm better than that, and I have finally come to that realization.

When I say "I'm better than this", I'm not asserting that I am some sort of supernatural being or ultimate human. We are all better than this. The things that hold us down we can grab by the neck and choke the life of. We are so much better. There is no way we can make progress if we never come to the realization that the things that tie us down do not have to and are not permanent. I'm better than that, and so are you.