Admission of a stranger

It's been a few weeks since my last post, and even I can't recall where I may have been going with the last post.

As I was telling someone else recently in some email correspondance, I have had both good days and bad days as of late. Thankfully, there have been more good days than bad, and only once did I seriously consider going back on the Lexapro to get me through a rough patch.

The last two weekends I haven't been feeling 100%. I've been a bit more tired, both physcially and mentally. I've also felt a little sore, and to be honest, wasn't really into doing anything...even church. So I skipped the last two Sunday's, and I'm not even sure why.

I listened with great interest to a talk radio show the other day in which one of the shows engineers had discussed his dealing with depression and his current regime of Lexapro. I was happy he was so open with it and defending his choice, while his friends thought he was 'just popping pills', and that this depression was 'all in his head'. Well, duh, it is!!

They couldn't understand why this man was on pills, but all did comment that he was overly cheery now, and maybe its a false effect to who he really is. That may be, but unless you know yourself and the emotional pain and guesswork depressed people go through, there really is no way they can explain and have others understand. Heck, I don't even understand myself.

You see, years ago I was one of those doubters; one of those guys on the outside that didn't understand why depressed people were 'depressed'. Why did they need to take pills? To me, it was just an excuse, running away from the real issues, hiding behind the convienence of a perscription. I thought if people were depressed than a few things were wrong (and it wasn't the brain): it was they were not surrounding themselves with loving and supportive people. It was they had no faith in God. That they were seeking attention, crying wolf, etc.

Then the tables were turned and I fell into the pit, and now I realize how wrong I was.

My family loves me, more than I can ever describe....but their words did not help me. My mother shook her head at me on more than one occasion stating the pills were an easy way out. You see, she stills thinks like I did. My father was a little more understanding. Admittedly, he doesn't know much about depression, but he knew something 'deeper' was wrong, and offered his company to me when I was sitting home alone staring at the floor. We didn't speak much during those times, but I know he was scared enough that he didn't want his only son to do something 'crazy'. Even though he may never tell me, I have a sense that he believed I was close to the edge and I may do something stupid. Most likely not, but I won't lie and say the thoughts never crossed my mind.

Anyway, back to the radio show.... I was amazed on how many of these friends of the 'engineer' knew he was depressed, and offered no real help at the time. Now they see him as a happier person, but at the same time criticized him for taking pills in the first place (as if he couldn't help himself), and aloc commented that he's not himself. Wow! He's not himself? Well of course not...he's now happier and cheery and out from under the dark cloud that he was under 24x7. Did they not like change? Would they rather have the old friend back, full of doom and gloom, and crabbiness? Apparantly. And that to me, is scary.

I wonder how many of my friends and family feel that way about me? That's why I don't really let on to my issues with my friends. Only my wife and my parents and you blog readers know about my meds. I am not 100% honest even with my best friends....for fear on how they will react or look at me.

Headaches

It's been a week since my last post.

I've had a lot on my mind, but then again, when don't I?

Sometimes I wonder if it's just my chemistry that I am to be a naturally stressed person? Is it nature or nurture? I can look back and think my mom coddled me for so many years that I didn't have the 'typical' boyhood, but who really is to say certain events or actions crafted me and there wasn't something already planted inside from creation that would also contribute to how I act or react to things. I won't get all philosophical today, it's too early for that.

Anyway, I mentioned last time I think I need to get a physical. I haven't made the appointment yet. It seems like life is too busy. I often forget to take a time out and take care of things. I'm always misplacing bills, my wallet, my keys. It's as if I get so wrapped up into other things, I take the trivial things and some important things (like a physical) for granted.

When I do have any spare time, I tend to shut the rest of the world out and get lost in my own moments. Like last night. My wife had a business dinner (which I always find 'questionable' to begin with.) and didn't come home until 10:15pm. Why do I say these are questionable? Well, they always seem to 'pop-up' at the last minute, usually involve no specific time frame, and always involve drinking. This isn't part of her job description, and I am highly suspect that she is 'required' to go to these. Why can't one just say 'No, I'm not going out late after hours to a bar and then drive home in the middle of the week at last minutes notice.' I know in the past I have said No, and the facts are, my wife's position in the company is not high profile enough to warrant her attendance. But that's neither here nor there. Last night, I really didn't care. Last night meant that instead of coming home and walking the dog, paying a bill, putting away Christmas decoration or cleaning up around the house, that I would be playing Xbox from 6pm to 10:30pm. And 4.5 hours of online gaming is exactly what I did, and I don't feel guilty about it.

What I do feel a tad guilty about is that I didn't go to church last weekend. I couldn't give the Lord 1.5 hours of my life. I made a justification that I wasn't feeling well, which was the truth, but not enough to keep me away for 1.5 hours.

I've been having these headache spells the past week. Bordering on migraine's, they have hit me at work, at home, on the weekend. Last Saturday night I even got nauseated for about 60 seconds at one point. Extra strength aspirin did 'help' but did not make them go away completely. Of course I think it's related to stress, or I'm a candidate for an aneurysm, or I have a brain tumor, or something. My wife says I need to get this checked out, but she needs a lot checked out herself so when I don't go to the doctor and she gets upset with me, I turn it right back around on her and she usually gets quiet. Not an appropriate or loving way to win an argument, but effective.

I hadn't been drinking, alcohol that is, and I've been drinking plenty of water and caffeine, so I don't know why. Last night I had a real hard time sleeping too. I must have stared at the clock until after 1am before I fell asleep, and I could have slept in more today if not for work. I don't want to go to work today either. I just had almost two weeks off for the holidays to 'recharge' my batteries, but all I can think about is sitting hoem and playing a video game or watching tv or going to the gym or going for a nice long drive, not sitting in a cubicle answering assinine questions that seem to irritate me for whatever reason.

2008 already starting in question (Part I)

Hello everyone. I hope that everyone that stops by here has enjoyed their holiday season. Overall, I think I did, though I will admit along with many 'highs', there were a few 'lows' as well...mostly when I was alone with my thoughts.

There is plenty I can sit back and thank God for and be appreciative of, but there was also a few moments were I felt very convicted....not only of myself, but the world itself and some of the sad things I heard about made me want to cry.

My wife and I have been getting along pretty well, and I will say she did go a bit overboard on me in gifts this year....probably the most she has ever done in the four years we've been married. Usually, I'm the one that goes overboard, but she outdid me this year. I have mixed feeling about that. On the one hand, I guess you coudl say I was impressed and 'touched', however, I can't help but have a tiny sliver inside my mind say she's making up for something I don't know about yet, or trying to 'buy' me off. That's a horrible thing to think, and probably not the case....but her generosity towards me for Christmas is sorta out of character.

I believe she was happy with all the things she received as well. I continue to pray that she will stop smoking...a huge source of conflict between us...and devote 'some' time to church with me, another subject I pray about continously. As I mentioned before, she does indeed believe in Christ, but makes no time for Him or goes to church with me. I guess it's 'my' issue that she can't spend 1.5 hours a week in church with me, but has plenty of time to go bowling or goofing around with the neighbors for hours on end every week. Maybe if I approached her to commit 1 Sunday a month with me (that'd be 12 times a year), maybe the Holy Spirit will minister to her where she'll be moved to try other functions as well. I guess I've been overly sensative about it the last few weeks, because the topic of dating and/or marrying someone whome we are 'equally yoked' with has come up in my support group a lot lately, and it just seems to be hammering me inside everytime I hear it.

Speaking of support groups...mine has been very beneficial to me lately. I can't tell you how much they have lifted me up inside and give me hope when I often feel so crappy. There have been a few times lately in which I've been contemplating going back on Lexapro. I wish I could explain to you or even understand for myself on how my emotional state flucuates so much and so often as of late. A typical day can have me more or less neutral or happy, and then I get an overwhleming sense of grief or despair in which I can plummet and begin to sob inside at any time. It happened even yesterday....I was having lunch by myself, and the next thing I know, I need a tissue to wipe my eyes. Thoughts of death enter my head and I begin to calculate peoples expiration dates including my parents and friends. I even told my wife over vacation that I hope I die before she does because I don't want to be alone later in life. I fear my step-daughter won't ever visit me and that since we don't have any kids of our own, or I have no brothers or sisters, no one will care or check up on me. I often see myself dead and alone, only to have the neighbors call the police after the smell gets unbearable from my house.

How messed up is that? Why do I think that way? Why does my mind drift into this territory? It can't be normal. And that's the next thought....am I normal? Abnormal? Why can't I be joyous in Christ all the time? Why can't I stop worrying about things I have no control over? So the Lexapro numbs my thoughts. I had a slight panic attack once a few days ago. Before I knew it my chest was getting tight and it became hard to breathe. It lasted about 5 minutes which doesn't seem that long, but when it happens it seems like it's not going to end. I wasn't close to my Clonapen, so I had to just ride it out. The thing was, my wife and step-daughetr was with me, and I tried to hide it. I silently rode it out all the time wishing I could just lay down right then and there in public, and rip my shirt off as it felt so constricting.

Geez, now that I am writing this, I think I need to make an appointment with my general practioner for a checkup anyway. It been almost two years, maybe even more since my last physical.

Best Wishes all

“He will wipe away every tear from our eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away” (Revelation 21:4)

Here's to hoping you enjoy your Christmas time togther with your family, and that 2008 may be a blessing.

I know I have learned a lot this past year. I have grown in His word, but still have such a long way to go. I look back and contemplate things that I thought were important to me, really aren't that big after all in the grand scheme of things. I strive to remember that when times are tough, and news is horrid, that I must continue to release control into His hands and place my faith in Him and not those in the world.

I look forward to the day that there will 'no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain.'

God Bless and hope to see you all back in 2008.

Humbled by Angel Boy Art

If anyone on occasion happens to watch ABC's 'Extreme Home Makeover', you will take note on various tragic stories affecting families, and sooner or later a particular episode (or two) will bring tears to your eyes.

Such was the case of the story of Louis Vitale Jr. of Vermont. When born, he was not expected to live due to a debilitating birth defect. Louis Jr. has since survived the first few critical days of life, and currently at age 2 now lives with his mother, father, and brother (who is 5).

Louis Jr. is considered a 'special needs' child and is fed through a stoma in his stomach, and needs help breathing from a stoma in his trachea. He is wheel chair bound and has limited mobility, slightly disfigured, and may never talk.

Within the first 2-3 minutes of the show, I and my wife were heartbroken. Here I sit in my home worrying about the day to day minutiae that may or may not come to pass, and here this little boy is born into a loving family who parents have the courage of reinforced steel, and he suffers daily.

As therapy, his parents started Angel Boy Art where special needs children like Louis Vitale Jr. can express themselves through art, because of all the other difficulties they suffer. It truly is an amazing story and I encourage you to visit their gallery here, and maybe pick up a print or learn more about Louis Jr., his family and the whole Angel Boy Art project.

However I couldn't help think back to the old non-beleiver argument of "If there is a God of love, why do innocents suffer?" I admit, I think of this as well. Everytime I turn on the news and I see a child or animal born into heinous circumstances and wonder to myself: "Why would God allow this?" These thoughts are then followed up my my own self-guilt and shame for complaining about things that compared to Louis Jr. are trivial. Then in my head I often make bold assumptions: "Well, this should be a one-way ticket to heaven if there ever was one", or "I hope Jesus takes care of them for all the crap they didn't ask for down here in this cesspool".

I have mixed emotions as well: anger, sadness, frustration, empathy, guilt, compassion and much more, but they are so jumbled up inside.

I watched this show for its 1 hour (minus commercials) and I was a wreck as a deplorable human being. And then I thought this poor boy is like this 24 hours a day, for over two years, and who knows how many more years to come?

Louis Vitale Sr., the father then put me in my place as only I hope I can achieve one day in my spiritual thinking: "I learn from my son everyday. There is a reason for this. The reason being that Louis Jr. is a teacher, and he teaches everyone who comes into contact with him on how to be a better person.".......

.......

Ug, like a hammer to the chest, I sit humbled though still confused and distraught why a God of Love allows for this to happen. Louis Jr., does indeed teach people every day. He teaches them compassion, like an animal, he teaches unconditional love despite his short comings and obstacles. Somewhere inside each of us, the Holy Spirit makes himself known as we despretely groan inside for the boys comfort and ease of pain. We thank God that we are healthy, and we want to pray for others sufferings and salvation. Perhaps Louis Jr., will inadvertantly bring some who are on the fence closer to God. Maybe he will remind us how feable we all are. I can go on and on here, but I think you get the gist. At least I think I got the gist, though I wonder if there are other ways God could go about it.

But then I think back to original sin. God did not want any of his children or creations to suffer, and someday, again, He will wipe away all tears and we will be filled with unyielding joyfulness. It was mans arrogance that brought us into our sinful nature, and despite all the evil and 'bad' things that happen, Christ gives us a choice. We have fallen, but He wants to help all of us back up...not to be our crutch in the world...but to look forward to the day when all this earthly pain and suffering is finally over. It is up to each and every one of us to make that decision within our own hearts.

Jesus, Thank You so much for Louis Jr....he reminded me once again that my stuff is of a selfish nature. Louis Jr. has brought me once again before you to pray for children everywhere, and those of my friends and family and non-believers. He reminds me of unconditional love, and how great parents and communities can indeed be when they look past the problems right in their face, and base everything they do on faith!

You can't please everybody.

The Bible tells us that this ignorance is "willful" (Psalm 10:4). It's not that a person can't find God, but that he won't. It has been rightly said that the "atheist" can't find God for the same reason a thief can't find a policeman. He knows that if he admits that there is a God, he is admitting that he is ultimately responsible to Him. (- Ray Comfort)

Some time back I posted on my blog here I came across a site in regards to famous people who claim to be atheists. As I suggested then, and I stand by that now, I feel somewhat saddened for them all and bummed to find out some of the people I looked up to in life are non-believers.

The best I can do for those that are still alive today is to pray for them, because I believe all things are possible in His time and His will. The softening of hearts can indeed happen, and there are plenty of examples in the bible in which stated atheists found God later in life.

As Ray Comfort points out, ignorance is "willful", though this may sound a bit harsh. I can tell atheists that I too have been known to struggle. My faith has been questionable at times, and even though I do believe today, I'd be lying if I said the thought never occurred to me: "If there is a God, then why did X happen to me, or to Y, or how could He allow this to take place?"

Hey, I wish I had the answers. Not only for atheists, but for me as well. It'd sure make my life a lot simpler, or I suppose all of our lives simpler if we never had a reason to question God's existance or sovereignty over us all.

I received some comments from a person lately in regards to that post that simply said: "U Suck." Well, on some days I surely do. There are days I am deplorable and wonder why Christ would die for me, let alone anyone else, and ask nothing in return other than my love, and sharing that love with others. There are days I look in the mirror and cannot even love myself, and I've shared my anger and bitterness in regards to people around me and how 'unfair' life is.

So someone telling me that "I suck" multiple times, because I am concerned with the salvation of some very talented and influential people, in the grand scheme of things, does little to me. Oh, yes, if you're reading this, you did indeed cause me some ire; I am writing about it now aren't I? However, in the end all that be all, believe me, you have to do a lot better in your argumentative skills other than "U suck" to even begin to shake me. You can't shake someone who has already been at their lowest, 'cause I've already been there and knows how miserable life can be without God. And I'm not saying my life today is a bed of roses...not by a long shot. I'm still a new person in Christ, and admittedly I am not mature enough to debate anyone for that matter. How arrogant would I be if I claimed I could?

The one thing that you did indeed accomplish, is that you know have me praying for you along with praying for myself. And while I may continue to suck for quite some time in your eyes for caring for others eternal peace, perhaps one day we will meet, God willing, in the afterlife and we can share a hug and look back at this on how we first met and you came to know the Lord. Perhaps you will make my own faith grow stronger as well.

100th post - A long road to get here.

"But ask now the beasts, and they shall teach thee; and the fowls of the air, and they shall tell thee: Or speak to the earth, and it shall teach thee: and the fishes of the sea shall declare unto thee. Who knoweth not in all these that the hand of the Lord hath wrought this?" (Job 12:7-9)

Didn't really dawn on me until a few posts ago that I was coming up my 100th post. And I can't say that I had given much thought on what I was going to say.

A lot has transpired in almost two years. I lost a loved one, I had a surgery, I lost my job, my marriage was rocky, I drank, I was under a lot of stress, I was diagnosed bi-polar and depressed and thus medicated for both, and my walk with the Lord was questionable at best.

There was a period of time I cried daily, if not hourly. I wanted to run away, to disappear into the night and start over elsewhere leaving everyone behind. I had thoughts of suicide, but alas to chicken to carry any of those thoughts out. I realized a lot of my pride got in my way of a number of things and in short I was not a happy person to be around. I didn't even want to be me.

I think of the young man, Robert Hawkins, who just yesterday took the life of 7 people at a mall in Nebraska, and then turned the gun on himself and ended his own existence bringing the count of to 8. I am saddened for him, and the victims, and the affected families as well. Strangely, I am not filled with anger towards his selfish and perhaps cowardly act, because, dare I say I too know the pain of depression and the feelings of hopelessness and emptiness.

And then there was God. Correction; then there IS God.

Oh, I always knew there was a God. That's never really been a doubt of my life that He exists, it just seemed like He wasn't existing in my life. I realize now that it was me who wasn't allowing Him in. My words and actions and the condition of my heart were blinded to Him.

I know I said this before, and some of you may think I am strange, but I believe in my own heart that God exposed His true love for me through my dog. When I sat broken and listless, when I thought my wife could have been more supportive and I was sick of everyone else's cliches, it was my dogs limitless devotion and love to me, his owner, that began to break down my walls.

It wouldn't be too much longer before I felt a calling to go back to church. To try and let go of my pride (easier said than done...even today) and learn to submit to His will and His control.

It was a long road, and I'll never say I am 100% cured now (maybe someday), for I occasionally have relapses when my emotions seem to get the better of me (usually when the enemy is there to try and knock me back on my ass), and sometimes they do.

The attacks are stronger sometimes than others, and I can't say that I don't feel doubt here and there about everything.

But having God back in my life has allowed me to turn the corner. Oh, it's an uphill battle, but today I am standing up taking it one step at a time, rather than sitting staring at an empty bottle or contempt for humanity.

I wonder about Robert Hawkins. Did he finally find peace that has plagued his mental state for however long? Could I have ever reached that level if pushed hard enough? Were the other victims saved and do they find themselves in heaven today, or did they reject Christ once given the chance before and decided that religion could come at a later time? I don't know and I don't think any of us ever will.

So today, I was taking a break outside and saw a feral cat. Not 'feral' in the sense it was foaming at the mouth and diseased, but a cat that lives in the field by my work, who probably dines on the occasional field mouse or bird. It was skinny and laying in the bushes, trying to keep warm, and it dawned on me that this is that cat's existence, day in and day out, until one day it is either hunted by a larger predator, gets hit by a car, or dies of natural causes.

And as I studied this cat, laying still and breathing steadily, I felt as if there was a certain 'peace' amongst the whole scene, as if the Holy Spirit was there showing me something. That 'something' was God's creation and that I could admire it, and the cat was okay with my presence there watching it. All other sounds and cares of mine momentarily disappeared, and it was just me and the cat, God's example to me that all things are taken care of, even me, if I allow Him to.

As I sat there longer, my thoughts drifted towards my dog, and all the trust and joy he gives me, and am I no different when Jesus looks at me? Am I to be calm, and peaceful, and give Christ the trust and joy that animals give me? I should, though I don't always remember to. Someday perhaps I will no longer need my medication...I can only hope and pray.

The animals taught me something today. Actually God taught me something today through the animals. There I was and still am humbled that I too am like a feral cat....living one day at a time, wanting to place my trust in God to take care of me, that He is in control and I am not. The peace that was shown to me today is something I really can't define, it goes beyond just a mere definition...it was a 'feeling', that one day I hope to experience in eternity.

Turning to a brother for help

"In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will." (Romans 8: 26 - 27)

I humbled over the weekend. Not by any particular act per-se, but by studying Romans, chapter 8. Actually chapters 6 - 8 really spoke to me and put some things in perspective. I just hope I can retain this knowledge and recall these words the next time I have ill thoughts in regards to the state of my relationship with people, but my more importantly my wife.

So my last post....I never finished. Not sure that I will now, since a week has passed. In summation, my wife hurt my feelings and because I internalize and have a hard time putting my thoughts and emotions in order, I broke down and wept. My wife saw my despair but fails to recognize my side, or what I consider the 'root' of our problem. I take it all upon myself, as usual, and forget to turn it over to Christ. And if I do turn it over to Christ, I am guilty of taking it back almost immediately thereafter.

The Enemy taunts me with my failures and strikes where he knows it hurts worse....my emotions where I always question not only the strength of my faith, but quick to recognize the faults of others. And when that happens, sin wells up in my heart. I think corrupt thoughts, self-doubt, anger, selfishly and I act out.....My eyes drift elsewhere seeking momentary happiness in carnal ways not pleasing to the Lord, or to my spirit in the long-run. The pain hurts so much at times, I look for a quick fix....in the world. My prayers turn to mush to the point where I don't know what to do anymore and want to give up.

I turned to a brother in the church and explained whats going on. We spoke for nearly 45 minutes. He understood. He even went as far as to say he and his own wife had been praying for me as they 'felt' something was amiss in my life.

The ability to vent and unload on someone who does not judge, but just listens was good for me. Just by speaking my thoughts, I was able to determine some actions that needed to be taken.

I decided to take my wife out on a long over-due date. It was nice. We had dinner and a movie. I prayed in my head numerous times, and with the thought of others praying for me as well, helped strengthen my own will within.

My wife and I have done 'okay' this week. We spent the day shopping together. Spent Friday night in and watched TV together. We walked the dog together. I was 'okay' with the fact she wanted to go and play cards with some girlfriends and so I was prepared she's be home late, and I was 'okay' with that too. She then took me to dinner on Sunday, and it was nice.

This morning I even had an intimate dream about her, something I hadn't had in ages.

Thank you's

I want to thank those that leave comments or send me letters through my hotmail account.

Many of you stay anonymous, and while I can understand the reasoning behind it, I wish I could put a name to you all personally.

Like the last person who left a comment about Christian Love Stories....about a woman who has medical issues, and her husband, and the love they share through Christ. Thank you...I added the link to the right as well. It touches me, and it saddens me at the same time. While I do not envy her situation and am very sorry for her physical pain and hardships, I do envy the love she shares with her mate. Something I have been praying about for years and have yet to achieve.

Other than my sweet dog, and the occasional communion with Christ through prayer, it can be very hard at times to feel so alone in this world. I wish it were easier. I also wish I could say that all your comments gave me a boost of confidence to wake up everyday and thank Jesus for a beautiful day and keep me going to be a representative of Him.

But I'd also be lying to myself and to you.

I recently told by someone who doesn't really know me all that well, that he and his wife had been praying for me. He says he sees me at church, alone, and told me lovingly yet bluntly "You look like you have had all your confidence drained from you, and we pray that it is restored." Well, believe me when I say I didn't know how to respond. A meek 'Thank you" you came from my lips to know that someone is praying for me, but the flip side is 'Am I really that obvious? Do I really look like I can throw in the towel?'

The sad truth is, the answer is 'yes'. I have often thought about running away from my current life. My marriage. My career. My family. Does that make me a coward? I suppose to some people it does. I have often thought/wished I had never been born. To say life is a gift to cherish...yes, at times it is. At other times, I cannot help but argue in my own head that if I had never been born to begin with, I wouldn't really know the difference to treasure life or not. So non-existence would have protected me from feeling so alone.

I have no idea on where I am going with this right now other than a brain dump right now, so instead of rambling in a circle as I can often tend to do, I will stop.

This past week (Part I)

It seems in the last few years, the closer we get to the holiday season, the more I feel depressed. I say depressed in the way that I am not experiencing the love and joy our culture has associated with the coming of the season.

Where some look forward to singing Christmas carols, drinking warm egg-nog on a cold night, looking at the pretty lights and spending time with family and all the delicious smells wafting from the oven, I can't help feel like I get short-changed.

Last week, my church had an annual holiday breakfast. I was really looking forward to going, and even volunteered to come in early and help set-up. I extended an invitation to my wife more than once over the course of a few weeks leading up to the event, and she led me to believe that she would be attending. Why wouldn't she? She was quite able to spend time with the neighbors the last few days having wine and socializing for hours on end. Could a two hour breakfast a mile from our house be asking too much?

Sadly, the answer is a resounding 'Yes'.

I had gotten up early that morning and rushed down there to help set up tables and chairs, and quietly sat in anticipation for my wife to show up at 9am as I had reminded her a few times before.

9am....9:15.....9:30...9:45...

One of the congregation came up to me, "Hey, where's your wife? I guess the bed was all too warm this morning." He meant it as a joke, in good spirit....but he was all too dead spot on and it took as much energy as I could muster to put on a fake smile and not break down. It's a good thing I had my sunglasses with me, as I could feel my eyes begin to well up with tears and my pride did not want to let on how crushed I was.

At 10:00 am I had given up. I could no longer enjoy myself, and who was I kidding? I could not sit any longer and 'pretend' I was having a good time.

I left silently, and walked home.

Once home I walked inside to see my wife at her computer, sitting in her robe, drinking coffee.

I was at a loss for words. If I open my mouth, my emotions would come pouring out. I'd say something hurtful and mean. For what? To 'get even'? No, I just thought to myself....this is par for the course, I am so foolish for getting my expectations up. I should have known better. My face and my body language must have given me away.

She looked up at me from her PC, "What's wrong?"

Astonishing. In those quick few seconds, so many responses had filled my head, but none of them would be ending good. I decided to fight down my primal urges inside, my rage/anger/hurt/frustration/sadness/loneliness.

"Nothing.", I said.

I slipped back into the garage and tried to make myself look busy for a bit. Better to give myself something to do, keep my mind and body occupied....calm down.

As I began to pull out the Christmas lights from the garage shelves, I felt as if once again...Christmas is here, and I'll be going through the motions.

To be continued.....

Recent Poll

I came across an interesting poll on CNN.com today:

Do you approach family holiday gatherings with (42826 votes so far) :

Dread 41% 17619 votes
Joyful anticipation 59% 25207 votes

That's actually quite sad. And I admit, I answered 'dread' myself.

The ideals of intimate family gatherings, relaxation, getting to know ones neighbors, and a reason to celebrate and exchange gifts has lost much of its meaning to many people, including myself.

When I was younger, there was always a magical feeling in the air when Thanksgiving and Christmas were upon us. As a child, I recall looking forward to grandparents visits, eating rich food, holiday TV specials, the smell of a pine tree, twinkling lights, eggnog, fresh cookies, and of course toys.

To me it meant time off from school, Twilight Zone marathons, chocolate candies, and fireplaces.

Sadly today I recognize now more than ever spirituality is at an all time lull. I crave getting to know Christ more and more, to recognize that this day symbolizes 'hope' for a doomed world, to be 'thankful' of what we do have and to cast our worries and troubles aside, at least for the duration of a good meal.

But now it seems I am spending time with people and relatives and neighbors who do not share by spiritual beliefs. It's more about the iPod, or the PlayStation than it is about family. And I fall right into this trap as well.

I was at the mall yesterday alone to begin my Christmas shopping, and I realize I am buying gifts for people, expensive ones at that, because somewhere over the years I feel obligated to just by the sheer nature it is Christmas, and that's what you do. Some of these people haven't seen the inside of a church in years, let alone opened a bible, or prayed. But that's not really for me to judge and hold against them. Our whole society has become perverse in thine manner.

As an example, I purchased my aunt a gift certificate for $50 at a clothing store. To me, a few thoughts crossed my mind during the whole ordeal: 1) Certificates are so impersonal, but I truly am drawing a blank on what to get people anymore. 2) Was $50 enough for my aunt? To some it may be, but to me, I think I'll end up spending more on her to assuade my own guilt for not looking cheap if you can believe that. 3) She's agnostic to boot.

I had that same thought with many people this year, even my wife. She gave me a list of what she desires....leaving no room for me to get her something of my own thinking lest she be disappointed....which of course takes out all the meaning and pleasure out of gift giving to me.

On the reverse side of the coin, she asked me what I would like for Christmas, and I honestly do not know. I really haven't given it too much thought, in which she replied "Great, looks like it is going to be another gift certificate year." This saddened me a bit, because I thought after 4 year of marriage and 2 years of dating, she'd be more creative when it comes to me.

I think of parties we are obligated to attend in which I don't want to participate for one reason or another, whether it be traffic, or listening to the same tired stories I always hear, or fussing about meals on if they are being served on time or not, and if the kids are behaving, and all the other stress.

Speaking of stress, just getting to the malls and navigating on my free days seems to tire me out already just thinking of it, then to come home, hide presents, wrap presents, identify presents, etc. It just doesn't sound very relaxing at all anymore.

And perhaps I am being overly cynical these days. I watch the news and just seem to get so depressed on all the horrible events: fires, earthquakes, cyclones, disease, war, shootings. How am I to be thankful? How can I celebrate with all this minutiae happening all over?

I lay in bed last night and decided to share some of my thought with my wife in the dark. I told her I fear for peoples salvation, more so today than ever before. I told her my emotions as of late have been all over the map sans the drugs. I felt as if I was opening up to her looking, grasping for some empathy and support. Instead she told me maybe I need to see a therapist again.

Not what I wanted to hear.

It was at this moment, she said she couldn't help me. That I see the world too black & white. That I forgot to have fun and that I am way to serious.

I sat and tried to digest this for a minute or so. Is it possible I am slipping back down the hole again? Do I need to start taking medication again before I start sliding down fast? While I was thinking these thoughts, my wife rolled over away from me and fell asleep.

Here I am again, feeling alone in the world, intensified by the false veil of 'holiday cheer'.

A bit angry and frustrated today

Sometimes I just feel so exasperated.

Marriage is much harder than it first appears on paper or in one's head, especially when either spouse occassionaly tends to put their feelings and free spirit first with disregard to how the other may feel or react.

What is really burdensome to me is that it happens so randomly, I never know what to expect, other than the fact it will indeed happen again if history is any teacher.

So I write this entry today with a few caveats in place: 1) I'm still a little worked up and probably have some residual resentment, anger, and hurt feelings that may come out in this. 2) I had very little sleep last night partly in regards to this. 3) I feel the need to vent, but I don't have anyone to turn to early in the morning. 4) My prayers in regards to the state of my marriage seemingly don't get answered right now and I'm a little lost on what to do/say/act next. 5) Things lately have seemed to good to be true, so I guess I was just fooling myself, ignorant to the fact that my wife is capable of a stupid stunt...again.

Apparently one of her co-workers was leaving the company and so she left a message that she'd be going out for a "couple of beers, and I'll be home soon." That message was left on our answering machine roughly at 5:45pm. Okay, I'm actually fine with that. She let me know where she was going and why, and who am I to deny her the right to say goodbye to someone she worked with and a friend over the years.

But I guess I should have realized that the other people also taking part are the same immature, drunks and chain smokers that always seem to spell trouble. Last night was no different.

So at 8pm, my wife is still not home, and calls again to leave a message (maybe I was in the shower or something) stating "If you want, I'll bring you home dinner. I'll be leaving in the next 5-10 minutes."

I didn't call her back for two reasons: 1) It's already 8pm and I assumed I was on my own for dinner, so I ate a sandwhich on my own. 2) She said she's be leaving in no more than 10 minutes, and the restaurant she was at is only 15 minutes away, so I should expect her no later than 8:30pm.

I went to bed at 10:45pm. Wife was still not home. I really didn't want to call her and 'check up on her.'

Finally at 11:45 pm she walks in the house. She makes a lot of noise, comes into the bedroom, chooses not to say one word to me, and climbs into bed.

I'm pretty worked up now and I can't sleep. The thoughts that go through my head are random, but generally are of this nature: "You are rude and inconsiderate. Grow up. How does 10 minutes equate to 3.5 hours? Why aren't you saying anything? You think this is acceptable? Please, do not talk to me. Lord, why? Why did I choose this person to marry who only cares about her own fun?"

It doesn't stop there.

At 12:30 am the phone rings. It is one of her really drunk girlfriends calling. She is so loud, I know instantly who it is, and I cannot help but think to myself "Figures, XXXXX is involved. Of course my wife stayed out late, and didn't call, she's hanging out with the very immature people yet again."

I got up and slept on the couch all night. Starting an argument at 12:30am was not on my list of things to do right then and there. My wife did not say one word to me. I did not say one word to her. I got up early, and tired, and left for work.

I'm praying about this, but I am so angry right now. These are the moments I wish I was not married and I kick myself in the rear. It's seems senseless to argue to her about this, because her M.O. is to be hyper-defensive, that I am over-reacting, that she won't do it again.....but the fact of the matter is she will.

Lord, what will you have me do? Why do I feel like I am the only one in this marriage? That I am the only person that think about 'us', when I believe my wife only thinks of 'herself'?

Lord, please give me the wisdom to act accordingly and lovingly, but please understand why I am angry and help quell those feelings.

Memories of Bottlecaps

Sometimes the most simplest of all things and their associated memories can bring a smile to my face and a certain 'giddiness' to myself.

Today, in a higher than normal hectic day, one of co-workers had out a bowl of left over Halloween candy. Inside, I spied a package of Wonka Bottlecaps. The packaging has changed quite a bit over the last 25 years from the very first ones I can remember opening, but the taste is unforgettable.

As is the memories that filled my mind of being a child and not be cogniscent of the cruel and wicked and often dissapointing world that surrounds me.

It was a little surreal. I popped the first cap in my mouth...Rootbeer.....and before I knew it, it was a summer afternoon in Michigan and I was with my parents and my favorite uncle sitting outside an old A&W drive-in stand. My uncle used to take me here for a rootbeer float when he was alive and I was young. We were on vacation, and we had been vsiting relatives that still live in the smae hometown my parents were from.

I has a special bond with my uncle. He was like a grandfather to me. He always made time for me, and I have so many special memories of him. I was devestated when he passed almost two years ago. Probably more so than I would be when my own grandfather passes.

Anyway, I remember him introducing me to Bottlecaps, and to this day, it is one of my favorite novelty candies.

Orange....like a 50/50 bar, and here I sit again in the backyard of yet another relatives yard. There's a picnic bench outside that I sit on and watch my older family tell stories of their youth in which I cannot relate, but it's okay. I have my Bottlecaps and I listen to their laughter and I watch the clouds drift by and feel the warmth of the sun on my arms and legs.

Grape. My cousins and I will be lighting fireworks soon. We swam all day out at the cottage and ate hotdogs and canned beans, and fished for Sunfish.

Cola...another flavor just as delicate. Why are all my memories now of when I was eight or nine years old? The images and feelings are intense and are surprising that they have surfaced. But with every cap I throw in my mouth, the taste takes me back. Back before I knew what mortage was, taxes, before a career, before alcohol and girlfriends and death and war. Before I knew about depression and God and corrupt world ideologies and pain and hurt. Before I allowed anger and despair to take foot in my mind and heart.

5 Bottlecaps. That's all there was in this pack. 5. It took me all of a few minutes to eat them all, but the memories that brought back with them is something I treasure and long for again.

Depression - Meds, the first 2 weeks (part 9)

The morning I started my medication was very personal to me. I woke early, as I always do, while looking forward to go to work and getting out of the house, not looking forward to certain people I had to work with.

The thought of putting on a 'happy' face all the while concealing my contempt and utter lack of respect for some people was harder than it seems. While I thought I was doing a good job at it, apparently I wasn't fooling too many people. As much as I thought I had my anger and emotions under control, I would learn later people had noticed a difference in me.

My patience, something I had very little of to begin with, had even smaller margins now. I never really noticed how much I was gritting my teeth or rolling my eyes when people were talking to me.

I looked in the mirror of our vanity and saw the tired eyes looking back at me. I also noticed that I had a lot more gray hair than I once remembered. Was I actually aging myself, taking years off my life from the foul and putrid moods I was now in? Would I be prematurely gray from genetics, or did the the world do this to me? Did I do this to me?

I opened the first bottle. Lexapro. The Clonapen would wait until later, but I would make sure I stuck one in my pocket, just in case....you know...for an emergency. I wanted to do this quietly. I did not want my wife to see this...partly pride...partly because I didn't want to hear any comments or have her reminded that her husband sunk this far.

The doctors told me I wouldn't feel anything right away. They said it would take at least two weeks for my body to adjust and accept the drugs in my body and have my brain chemicals altered. Funny, you never really have these same thought when you drink a few beers. Alcohol changes the brain chemistry, but usually within minutes of consumption. Here, now that I want my chemistry to change, now I have to wait two weeks. People wonder why people turn to alcohol. It's simple.....People want to escape their reality and pain as quickly as possible, not wait two weeks or longer. I know...alcohol was my 'friend'....my own medication that I could prescribe as much as I wanted and when.

There were times even the slightest feeling of anxiety, perhaps just a simple heart flutter, would send me to the cupboards for a tumbler to add a few ice cubes and watch the amber liquid of Jack Daniels splash across the glass.

I swallowed the pill and continued to get ready for work. I dressed and said goodbye to my wife who was still laying in bed. On my wait out our bedroom door she told me "Did you take your pills?"

My God...I wish I could have seen my face at that moment. There it was....that question just dangling out there in space....waiting for an answer. I wanted to reply "Yes, you're crazy husband who cannot seem to get his act together...the guy who is educated and knows better....the guy who was big and strong and in control and fixed and paid for everything who is now an utter mess, who cannot concentrate, who hates people, who hates life, who doesn't know up from down right now and wants to run away and ask God for a 'do-over', who feels like he wants to punch everyone in sight, who likes the taste of whisky.....took his good for nothing pill that isn't even going to do anything for two weeks if he's lucky."

Instead I muttered a soft spoken "yes" just to get it over with and walked out without looking back.

So here I start my new regime... a pill every morning...a physical reminder that stares me in the face to let me know I failed somewhere along the line.

To be continued.....

To Die in Jerusalem

From the HBO website:

To Die In Jerusalem:

Two daughters lost in conflict: one a suicide bomber, the other her victim. Two mothers searching for answers. Two nations divided by the land they share. TO DIE IN JERUSALEM looks at the Israeli-Palestinian conflict through the eyes of two mothers who lost their daughters in one deadly act of violence. The documentary recounts the heart- wrenching story of two teenage girls - 17-year-old Israeli student Rachel Levy, and her killer, 18-year-old Palestinian suicide bomber Ayat al-Akhras - who died together in a Jerusalem market in 2002.

Additional detailed synopsis here.

I actually stumbled upon this last night while I was flipping channels. Earlier in the day I had written about Halloween, and when I got home, my thoughts still seemed and I feared my entry didn't make much sense. I planned on re-commenting on it today, but then I got sucked into this documentary.

A world a way for me, but saddened me so much. I will probably never make it to the middle east in my life time, especially anywhere near the West Bank or Palestine/Israel, and to be honest, while I know there is a conflict raging their daily, like most Americans I probably don't pay all that much attention. Sorta like, 'Outta sight, outta mind'.

The story itself is tragic enough. We could go on and on and on about the ramifications, politics, etc. One thing that really caught my eye was the living conditions on both sides. The neighborhoods were so crowded, Arabic graffiti adorned the walls similar to what one would see in inner cities in America. But instead of gang signs and rude remarks, the scrawling was of Allah, or jihad, or other political statements. To me it reminded me of downtown Compton, CA...a place you don't want to be out at night, where all the windows have bars on them, and gunshots and sirens are a regular sound.

So it is just as common in sections of Israel and Palestine. Where in America, these sounds are associated with drug deals, prostitution, gang warfare, in the middle east it is about religious differences and occupation. Wow.

I was amazed at the attitudes of both families. Upon the anniversary of their daughters death, one mother cried and is still looking for answers, the other, while sad, celebrated heroism and nobility. You can guess which mother was which.

And to think this happens every day? Week? Month? Year? Generation?

As a Christian I was fascinated by both ideologies presented to me, and what there idea of peace and God's will is, and how different that is from mine. I read the bible, one reads the Torah, the other the Koran. Very religious books, 3 radically different interpretations.

I was very saddened by the parents outlook and attitude of the martyr, Ayat. While in their hearts they miss their child, they also believe she is a hero for her sacrifice and the justifications they offer are something we cannot comprehend, but seems absolutely normal to them.

The final thought I had was something that Christ said to us all: "I am the way the truth and the life; NO MAN cometh unto the Father BUT BY ME." -- Jesus Christ (John 14:6) And so I wonder, as a Christian, did both these children die for nothing? If they did not accept Christ, where do they reside now? I have an easier time accepting where Ayat may be, but I am not so sure about Rachel. Rachel was old enough to know about Christ, but did she die in denial of Christ as the savior, no matter how innocent she was? I do not know, for only Christ knows the condition of the heart and who spends eternity where, but as I sit on my couch and watch these past events with a slack jaw, I cannot help but think years of heartache for both families ended in two lost souls....literally.

Dol-drums

I think that spelling is what is generally accepted, but I'm not positive. That's how I feel today. I'm a bit tired; actually more tired than even I think I let on. This morning it was very gray and overcast outside with fog.....a day I would have liked to stay in bed for a bit longer even if I couldn't sleep.

I had a large cup of over-priced Starbucks this morning, and even that 20 oz IV drip of caffeine hasn't seemed to get me jump started today.

I glance at the clock and realize it's only lunch. A 200 calorie cup of instant Pad Thai noodles is my vice today, and while it sounded good at the store, it has left me grossly unsatisfied to say the least.

As was my dinner last night.

Shredded Trader Joe's BBQ chicken, nuked, and served over an open faced wheat hamburger bun. It was later than I would have liked, so I only ate one, but I told my wife it had no real taste anyway, so the thought and energy of making a second one never got off the ground.

Yesterday was Halloween.

I'm not sure what to make of this 'Holiday' anymore.

When I was a child, my parents took me trick or treating and it was a big thing. I was Steve Austin (the Bionic Man) once, Frankenstein, a ghost, and Tweety Bird amongst other characters.

Then one year when my parents got seriously religious I was scared into not celebrating Halloween any longer, lest I be giving homage to Satan and his minions. Instead, I was dropped off at a 'Harvest Festival' at my church at the time for cold pizza, some board games, and store bought treats.

I never really celebrated Harvest Festival again after that one year, nor did I partake in Halloween again until I was in college. And in college, it was more about an excuse to have throw back some beers and meet girls than it was about dressing up.

I remember that I was always leery about Halloween. Part of me enjoyed the idea of a party, a time to have fun, a time to have a few drinks and socialize....but the other part of me was indeed scared that I was not taking Christianity seriously, that perhaps Christ was frowning down upon me, that maybe, just maybe I was glorifying the evil one.

I have not worn a costume for about 15 years now, and I have no children to be faced whether I Trick or Treat or not.

Personally I dread Halloween, not necessarily for occultic overtones, but the sheer fact I hate opening the door every 2 minutes and handing out candy to kids that are generally impolite or feel I 'owe' them something for coming to my door. My wife thinks I'm a 'fuddy-duddy', but in all seriousness I count the hours until it's over.

There is a strong christian family that lives across from me, and this year they handed out candy and let their kids 'ToT'. My atheist neighbor who claims to be a very 'spiritual' person besides the fact she doesn't believe in God also was passing out candy.

My mother made a strange comment to me the other day which I just listened to and did not reply. I've been playing it over in my head since: "Maybe I was too hard on you as a kid for stopping you from participating in Halloween. I think I allowed certain Christian beliefs to go overboard in protecting you."

Now that she said that, it bothers me. It bothers me that my mother now thinks Halloween is okay from her spiritual side, that participating in handing out candy for 2-3 hours will not send me directly to hell. My conscious ebbs back and forth on my moms self-revelation. Sometimes I get mad that she robbed me of certain childhood memories in the name of 'faith', I also think she was 'right' at times. While I do not personally think that handing out candy will indeed send me to hell, I also recognize that the occult is indeed glorified on this day and does not sit well with me. Hence, I look forward to when the day comes and goes within a matter of hours.

I read from ChristianAnswers.net some articles regarding Harvest Festivals and Halloween and what should Christians should do. The authors equated that Harvest Festivals were just as bad as Halloween in a biblical sense, because it is a 'substitute' holiday meant to supplant one occultic day with something else to fill the void, and this is dangerous. In the end, even Harvest Festivals are made up of games, treats, etc...perhaps not with scary costumes, but to give children something to do in light of ToT and was sending mixed messages.

Personally, I can understand this point and even find myself agreeing with it. But what do 'I' do? My neighbors and wife continue to pass out candy. I sit outside because I am determined not to answer the door every minute, and I see some of the clever costumes. I even talk with some of the parents and wish them well and safety. I don't have the heart to deny children something they don't yet understand, but I can only pray. I sit in silence and quietly commune with God and Christ that I recognize this day is rife for spiritual attacks, and I pray for the kids, my neighbors, myself...that we don't take this day too seriously. That God knows my heart and the struggle within, and how do I set the correct example when I am not even sure how I genuinely feel myself.

The only non-confusing thing I do know, and I hope you realize I'm not trying to make a joke of it...is that my wife picked out all the Kit-Kat's just for me. Kit-Kat's are my favorite candy bar and now I have quite a few of them to enjoy.

Today is my Anniversary

4 years ago today my fiance and I stood before 150 people, most of them I did not know, and exchanged vows to become husband and wife.

When I was growing up, I always pictured my wedding day as a start to my new life. I could look forward to having a partner who loved me like no other and I could return that love unbridled. I looked for a partner whom I was sexually compatible with, that we could fulfill each others desires. I looked forward to having a child, perhaps even more, and one day maybe being a grandfather myself.

I pictured us being partners, 50-50, or as the old cliche states "For better or worse", and 'worse' never really entered my mind.

Last year on our third anniversary my wife chose to out with her girlfriends drinking after work which hurt me very deeply. Instead of celebrating our marriage, I was crying and she was indifferent towards me. That time frame was very troubling for me, and as I later found out very troubling for my wife.

We were at an impasse on who supported who and what marriage meant to each of us. Honestly, as much as I was hurt and disappointed with her decision that day, I can understand why she didn't want to be around me. It was during this time I had recently lost my job and I was indeed very depressed. I was on medication full tilt. Anything and almost everything would send me into a tailspin of despair and my wife didn't want to be around me lest I drag her down emotionally with me.

Where I thought she needed to be with me on our anniversary, I equated her love for me in direct conjunction with her obligatory presence. When she was not there, I thought this was a sign our marriage was over. Of course this fueled even more negative thoughts on my end. How could I go back and face these 150+ people, including our families, who celebrated our marriage just 3 years earlier and tell them it was a failure? On top of my tears and my meds, I figured I needed a little something extra that evening, so I turned to the bottle. Whisky....straight. It was during this time frame I really wondered what the heck did I ever see in this person I chose to marry? What did I see in myself? Was I destined to live a 'loveless' marriage, trapped by the contract I made with God at the altar? Did I really want to wake up the next morning, and every morning thereafter feeling this way? Where was that love? Can I please have it end right now?

How many more shots do I need this evening before the pain dissipates and numbs? How many more before I pass out?

A lot has changed in a year.

I rediscovered God and what being a Christian is like again. My wife and I are better...not perfect. We still argue at times, but not like we used to. We attended a couples class a few weeks back and discovered things about each other we were not 100% positive we knew about each other. My wife doesn't come to church with me, but I pray every week that our marriage grows stronger. I continually pray that God continues to work on my spirit, my issues, my health, and I also pray that He helps to change her heart not only towards me, but to God the Father, Himself. It's not always perfect, but Gods timing and reason are not my own.

Unfortunately this year my wife again will not be here for our 4th anniversary. This time I don't hold a grudge. She is away on business this time and calls me everyday. She asked what I have planned for us this Sunday when she returns. I don't have anything planned yet, but at least she's asking. I suppose that a good sign. And I suppose the fact I miss her is a good sign as well, though I'll be honest in saying my idea of marriage a few years ago in nothing like what I/we are experiencing between us now, and that does disappoint me on occasion.

I know that others have had a much tougher time with marriage with me, but I also know other who have it better, and I strive to be the latter, not the former. I'd like to think my wife feels the same way, and at times there are signs that is indeed the case, but not always.

Friends, please pray for me. Pray for my heart and that of my wife as well. That God can change both of us if we allow and desire Him to do so. Perhaps on our 5 year Anniversary, we will actually spend it together.

Wrestling with Moral Character and Judgements

I happened to come across this story today on CNN.com in regard to a former Playboy Playmate Susie Scott Krabacher and her work today as to saving orphans in the country of Haiti. I suppose one of the reasons this article made the news was to help rpomote her new book "Angels of a Lower Flight."


The title of her book really intrigued me to write this post. Despite the story of today where she and her husband now run a orphange facility in Haiti and the brief descriptions of obstacles such as thieves, gangs, and heart breaking child death and abandonment, she takes this all on and dare I say with more compassion than most regular church goers.


In light of my post yesterday regarding my own personal journey on forgiveness, I couldn't help but be reminded that I should not judge people on their appearance, past deeds, or other criteria, which is so hard to do these days. We need to leave all this to Jesus, for only He truly knows the condition of our hearts.


I suspect many christians, or people of faith may indeed have the initial knee-jerk reaction I did...a Playboy Playmate? Where does her religion lie?


But after a few moments, I realize that I too am no better off. We are all sinners. We all have a past. We all made decisions that somebody would raise their eyebrows at. I think of the prostitute that paid reverence to Christ where his own disciples were taken aback by her mere presence. I think of the thief on the cross who sucumbed to Christ in his own last moments.


And I think once again to myself, "Who the heck am I to pass judgement?" Am I too fixated on her past that I cannot consider a turning of the heart? Today she is helping save the lives of abandoned children in a third world country, risking her own life to do something noble. What am I doing?


I have no idea where she stands spiritually. The article made no reference, nor was it important to the story at hand.

But back to the title: "Angels of a Lower Flight". It took me a few minutes to disect this. In a way, her title is a self-admonishment of her past. It's telling in a way that she self-judges herself as not being adequate to soar high with the angels we all think of in a stereotypical way. Her implied acknowledgement of being a former Playmate within the title itself describes a belief that she is tarnished....as we all are.

I think of being rewarded for our earthly works one day. My score-card is more or less non-exsistant, yet this former 'model', if indeed saved today, is a more noble person than I. I self-admitedly have a hard time with people, I even once said I despise people anymore in general. While that was said out of frustration, I cannot say it doesn't hold some truth for me sometimes. And here she is.

I'm not sure where my thought process may sit with some of you who read this. I am not condoning her past. But then again, I cannot condone mine either. All I can say at this moment in time we all fail, we all do something not-pleasing to God, and some of us continue to do so. And then we judge others without judging ourselves, and forget that only God knows the final score. And that Susie Scott Krabacher is a better example of being a compassionate and caring person than I am.

A lesson in Forgiveness

"For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins." - (Matthew 6:14-15)



I learned some interesting news yesterday regarding someone who had quite a negative impact on me, and it affected me differently today than it would have a year ago.



When I lost my job unexpectedly14 months ago, I cannot help and look back and believe my former manager had a direct involvement in my departure. This person ascended to his managerial position as it was vacated by someone else who had just left the company. What was supposed to be a temporary position for him until a new manager could be interviewed and installed ended up being my new manager by proxy as time went on and no interviews ever took place.



Unfortunately since day one, I always noted some friction between us and it only got worse over time. Clearly our relationship had almost developed to adversarial proportions and it was sensed by many. Despite numerous attempts to lay low and go with the flow, some intentional acts and ridiculous suggestions and inferences directed my way raised my boiling point.



On at least two separate occasions I had to 'take a walk' around the building lest I succumb to violent tendencies and so something I definitely would have regretted. Thankfully my cooler head would prevail, but the animosity in my heart grew and festered and turned ugly despite how often I prayed about the situation.



Over the course of his reign over me, looking back it definitely had taken its toll on me spiritually and emotionally. I say spiritually because even though I wasn't the best practicing Christian, something inside my soul was always in conflict with his belief system. What was once a fun place to work, now seemed like a challenge to get through the day. I literally lost sleep at times over my stress and anxiety, and I got angrier at the whole situation as Human Resources and upper-management had received numerous complaints from customers, vendors, and fellow employees regarding his antics and yet chose to do nothing.



When I was summarily released, I carried a toxic venom in my heart for weeks, if not months on end. I often confided in my wife that if God was not in my heart at all and if I wasn't afraid of a criminal record, I would have let my fists do the talking the next time I ran into him. I'm ashamed to say I had very un-christian thoughts in regards to him.



About 7 months ago I found out he had cancer. While this didn't erase all my negative thoughts, I was sympathetic towards him and his family. He was someones husband, and also a father of two children, and I would never wish a child to see a parent suffer a grave illness. Perhaps this was the beginning of the softening of my heart. Though I could still not find the courage within me to call and wish him a well recovery.



His cancer is in remission now as I have learned a few months back, but yesterday he was terminated by my former employer.



This information has resulted in a strange pattern of thoughts I have been having the last 24 hours. Where as a year ago I secretly coveted his demise and would have let my hatred give myself brief, although misguided pleasure, today I feel quite differently. While I cannot say I am sorry that he was terminated, I also find my anger and negative feelings I once felt aren't really there anymore. In fact, I wondered last night how he was doing? How was his family to react? Are there medical bills still outstanding? Has he found Christ yet?



You see, somewhere down the line I think I forgave him. While I never understood why this man had me singled out from day one, gave me such a hard time on everything, caused me nothing but grief while I was still there, I've come to realize today that God has provided for me. That this whole ordeal I went through....this was just a part of the lesson God was trying to teach me....the concept of forgiveness. Not only to forgive those that had wronged me, but to also forgive myself.



As Matthew states in the verses above, when I applied forgiveness to this man and let go of my hearts hardening towards him, it was then I realized that God had provided me a new job, a new heart, and a ball of corrupted emotions was no longer prevalent within my soul. God forgave me through His compassion and His mercy.



Thank you Jesus for teaching me this, though the lesson was a few years in the making.

The Art of Submission - one viewpoint

Yesterday I received yet another powerful message that seemed to mimic my life from church yesterday. It was in regards to submission. I think most Christians, if polled on submissions, would most likely cite the verse in which "wives are to submit to their husbands", and I think most men would argree that there are inferences that men should subit to their wives in many manners as well.

But do we submit in all facets in our lives? Do we submit to our children when they need encouragment and love? Do we submit to our neighbors when they are shouldering burdens and they need to built up? Do we submit to our co-workers and even our boss for the 'right' reasons and not because we are more worried about keeping our jobs?

It was pointed out that Jesus has a radical way of teaching unkown to man as a concept before. Men of the world rule through selfish means. It is a jockeying of position of puttings ones own interests in front of others in order to climb to the tob. Power came through strength, war, manipulation. Leaders often led through 'might is right', or by instilling fear in their subjects and their enemies.

Christ turned this way of thinking on its head through the teaching of 'submission'. That we could become respected leaders if we submitted through humility, through grace, through love.

After my first shoulder surgery, I did not subit to the doctors or my wife's advice. As soon as I could, I returned to the gym, and began to push myself....to return to my old ways. To recapture the muscle I had lost and the imposing features I once had that were now turning soft. I did not submit God's course of healing, and the result was doing additional damage and requiring a second operation that I could have avoided.

When I was unemployed, I did not submit. I did not trust in God and Christ to take care of me, even though they were going to anyway. I was angry at the 'world', I was angry at my formal employers, I was angry the cliches, I was angry that people were no longer calling me. I fought back in my own way. It was my problem, and 'I' was going to fix it. I did not submit that maybe this was God's will and that he had something else in mind for me. It may not pay as much, but the stress was something I could shoulder and allow my broken spirit, my broken body, and my broken mind to repair itself.

In my marriage, I don't always submit. We are both headstrong in certain areas and I'll admit sometimes my wife's logic in manners are hers alone, something I may never understand, and thus has caused grief and strains on our relationship. Submission here is much trickier and is a constant ebb and flow when emotions, finances, spiritual attunement, step children, bad habits are involved. I have learned to submit overtime in certain areas, and try and dig-in in others. But knowing whether I am submitting in the right areas is not always easy, especially when I am immature in the Word.

And finally, I think just as hard as it is in learning submission in marriage (and I can go on and on about that), was learning submission in the face of depression. When I was first told to seek counseling I did not want to submit. I finally did, but for the wrong reasons....to get my wife off my back was the primary reason. When I saw a shrink and he told me I was bi-polar and thought I was ADHD, I did not want to submit either. The first thing I thought was 'no-way, not me...you're telling me my head is not right and crazy'. The first time I took medications to regulate my brain chemistry, it took a lot for me to submit. I recall staring in the mirror and looking for signs (as if it were possible) of depression as if it would apear as a scar or a bruise before I would unscrew the caps of my bottles and take my first pills.

Overall, I think the hardest part of submission was submission to God the Father himself. I had always been a fixer, a fixer of my own problems. And now, everything was out of control and I could never get a firm grip. The harder I tried, the more thing would slip between my fingers. My marriage was shakey, my body was broken, my anger towards people was at an all time high, I was unemployed, I wanted to drink, I wanted to know why the chemicals within my head were off kilter, I wanted people to shut up, and for everytime I cried, I sank deeper and deeper and deeper. I won't lie to you....personal death was creeping into my psyche as a plausible option. The though of eternal rest was soubnding better and better as each day passed.

I can't really say what exact hour God finally broke through to me. I had thought I was a Christian for many years prior, but my faith was really helping up until this point. I know I broke down in front of an elder at my church, and I allowed him to take me off to an unoccupied room where I let it all go. And boy did I. I unloaded. I spoke volumes. I described everything I was thinking, and to this mans credit, he did not flinch when certain raw emotions and language came out between the sobs. And when it was over, there I was, exhausted. No more energy to shed another tear. I was a 5'11", 220 lb ball of spent meat and I could care less.

Then he prayed for me.

And sometime during this I submitted. I submitted to God and to Jesus Christ. I realized and I admitted I could no longer fix myself. I sat there for quite awhile and began to re-collect myself. I can't say it has always been roses from that point on, but it was the definitive moment. If I allowed myself to sink any lower at this point, I sometimes wonder if I would seriously be here right now writing this. However, once I allowed God to take over I began to view life somewhat differently. That was 1 year ago this month.

A lot has changed this past year. Not all of it has been hunky dory, and there are indeed times I take a stumble and certain emotions creep back in. My wife and I still argue as married couples are apt to do. I still have the occasional run ins with peers at my 'new' job, but overall, things are indeed much better. And a lot of that has comes through by means of submission.