Why I Don’t Want You To Read This Post

After reading this through before pasting into my blog, I almost wasn’t going to post this entry. But then I realized that this is an excellent opportunity to display my own flaws and weaknesses because some of my posts may seem “preachy” (and I’m barely even qualified to give my own self advice, let alone any of you), but I’ll leave this up to you to read or not. It’s a very raw look into my life which I often keep hidden behind a mask. I apologize in advance there is no real scripture in today’s post. Some days The Holy Spirit just knows what we need even if we don’t actively seek it that day.

It’s been a hard fought day. It isn’t some strange phenomena for tears to fall from my eyelids, but it is out of the ordinary when they’re a result of loneliness. Given how I feel about living alone and being in a quiet atmosphere, you should be asking, “Chuck, how can you cry about being lonely when you enjoy being alone so much?” The short answer to that is, there are stark differences between the act of being alone and the object of loneliness.

On the same side of the coin, one could hypothesize I brought this all on myself. And while you’d be correct, it was not a feat won all by it’s lonesome. I speak often about how it feels to be autistic, and while that’s such a huge part of my life (especially as I get older and older), it isn’t the single most thing which causes me so much affliction. I don’t talk about bipolar disorder too much because for the majority of my adult life, I have denied it. Sure, there have always been the problems presenting themselves in the fashion which wreak havoc (sometimes more than autism) in my personal life. But I hate to admit it due to the stigmatic effects it has in society today. I’d be closer to the truth if only I just offered this window of transparency to my readers. And after today, I feel it’s the perfect opportunity to come clean with how it makes me feel. And while surely it is not all of the baggage I carry in my mind–for there are other things which make me a large part of the broken world which you are cut from similar effects–today I’ll focus purely on the mental health aspect. That’s a big enough pill to swallow. Which that in and of itself is an oxymoron for the world of Chuck Franklin, because I haven’t taken a single mood stabilizer or antidepressant since just before Christmas of 2017.

Before I begin, let me address what bipolar disorder and mental illness is not.

• It is not God given.
• It is not learned behavior.
• It is not ‘just an excuse’ for acting irrationally.
• It is not fun.

You might think that list of four things should be self explanatory… an inherent production of common sense. Then there’s the first one. No, I don’t believe in a God who harms His children.

While we were created in His image, I choose to believe that mental illness is brought on by the fall of man which dates back to Adam & Eve. I believe that we have certain differences which are a result of the flawed world that we trample.

It’s caused by genetics and the consequence of environmental impacts and since it’s just like any other DNA trait as is human brilliance or red hair, God uses it as a tool. Nowadays, I choose to think Mental Health is nothing more than a circumstance which God decides to use under His supervision to bring us closer to Him and to measure when our issues can be put to some greater positive use of helping or relating with others.

Bipolar disorder or any other mental illness (note, you will never see or hear me label autism as a disease) is not learned behavior. While we certainly are exposed to it on a daily basis whether we realize it or not, I keep the hope in the fact that my brothers and sisters in Christ don’t use it as an excuse for our occasional bad behavior. I’d also think that neither of us would (in our right minds) choose to act out in anger or agitation. Unfortunately though, since we are so not perfect, it happens. Some are better at identifying their feelings or emotions and can assess better than others and cool down before heating up. But sometimes, we’re all just bound to ‘snap’ and it just ‘is what it is’ every once in a while.

I also hate to break this to anyone who thinks this (and you’d be surprised how many people I’ve heard say this) that bipolar is fun. I’m sorry, but I don’t find joy in spending night after night after night awake researching new subjects or exploring my creativity through paper crafting, or writing, or spending long nights watching movies and taking two hot showers sometimes in an eight hour period just because my brain won’t shut off and let me sleep like the rest of the world. I find joy in those interests most during the light of day. And, I don’t find pleasure in starting new projects or interests on the flip of a dime. But it happens so much with me, I cannot count on one hand how many times I’ve switched interests. On Monday, I can decide that I’m going to take up baking, so the next day or (instantly, as in the pleasures of online shopping) I venture on a spending spree to get new pans and utensils which are necessary to baking. By Friday, I’d have lost complete interest in baking when I meet the demise of my horrible talent at fixing something that another person would dare identify as edible. And in those days in between, I can shockingly survive with two or three short naps the entire week.

The sporadic and messianic zeal of conquering a brand new concept or hobby one minute, then losing interest in whatever half brained idea I’d dreamed up the next, clashes directly with my autistic disdain for change and crave for routine based living.

During these periods of pure mania, I’m generally at the peak of my elated self. I’m so confident and happier than a dog basking in the sun, then usually after an entire day of headaches and throwing my fists in thin air (which typically occur after a week or two from when the mania starts), I plunge straight into the depths of my already sinking mattress. It’s days like this which my mind becomes haunted by the consequences of my behavior. Shame and guilt elude my every thought and I feel the sting of loneliness. It’s in those transitions of rage and anger which I’ve pushed away family members and friends. Now don’t get me wrong, I have arrived at the acceptance that God has cleaned out my inner circle of friends for great reason. However, I am to blame for some of the relational woes and it’s days like this when I shake my head at how unfair mental illness is.

You probably find yourself thinking that I could just try medication again. I should attend rigorous therapy. I should interact with others in person more. And for a typical person, all those could be great suggestions. But like I mentioned above, my mental illness battles the faulty brain wiring and I have a real-life cartoon of the devil on one side of my head and an angelic entity on the other. Medication hasn’t worked in the past, and trust me when I say this, eight years ago when I found out I was both autistic and bipolar, I’d began the entire circuit of medications. They just don’t work for some people. And since moving back to Colorado, I’ve yet to find a suitable therapy provider who truly understands the full scope of my mental health needs without judgment and preconceived bias. Grand Junction leaves much to be desired in a clinical perspective. Much like our doctors here, Western Colorado is full of therapists/psychiatrists and barely any of them measure up to the brilliance which I’d once had in Indiana. They just don’t get it.

So as I lay here, bereft of real gumption to get up and do anything productive, I revert back to my first paragraph. Some days just have me crying tears of regret and loneliness. It’s in these moments which I can’t escape the confines of hell which satan has placed me in, because even if I did have a spouse in my life to bring the physical comfort God wants for me, I’m sure I’d find some way of pushing them away too.

[Extra Post] 9.17.19 – My First Story of Major Struggle

Today, there are two parts and this is the second entry. I recommend reading the other post from today first so you can have context for this one, which is my personal story as promised in the previous portion today. 

I’m happy to share this part of my life with everyone, because I am 1) so far from perfect and by sharing part of my vulnerable past, I hope that it helps relate with others that this is unfortunately a common occurrence and a direct action by the enemy’s plot to steal, kill, and destroy the good in God’s children. 2) I have overcame that problem with many thanks to God’s intervening and guidance whether I was strong in my faith or not. I can luckily and gratefully attest that only through God’s loving grace, that I can even share this–and also because it did not end so dramatically like the film “Ben is Back” which I discuss in the earlier blog post today. 

A few weeks after watching my own mother take her last breaths (actually I was directly responsible for helping her wishes to stop treatment be heard because doctors kept assuring her that it was “just her depression talking”), I started experiencing so much physical pain which the doctor at the clinic I was seeing could not find any root cause. He prescribed me Vicodin ES (extra strength) assuring me that my pain would soon clear up and I wouldn’t have to “be on them forever.” This was in early 2009, so the opioid epidemic hadn’t yet started to become a widely affected issue for many parts of America. 

A couple months pass by and that physician retires from the clinic making it difficult for me to get in with another provider quickly, and the one which was immediately available was an internist whom did not prescribe any medication unless absolutely necessary. It was too late, though. The damage of physical dependence had already set in. My depression combined with pain, forced me to recover my mother’s rampant stash of painkillers and benzodiazepines because I was almost out of my own prescribed tablets, which meant a graduation for my addiction onto a stronger painkiller- oxycodone. What started out with one or two pills a day turned into three or four–sometimes five or six. Not only had it started wrecking my poor tummy like a tilt-a-whirl at the carnival, it just fed into the need for more. When they were soon to run out, I had to turn to other means of obtaining pain pills. This meant begging friends to check their medicine cabinets if they had some perchance leftover from a dental procedure or operation that they didn’t take the complete lot prescribed. 

By July of that year, I’d only had just a few of my stash from mom’s sock drawer. I was numb every day. And it didn’t even mean I was taking them for pain anymore. I would take them and the muscle relaxers sometimes in combination at high doses just to make me stay “numb” because I couldn’t handle the world at large. This not only was a result of my autism and having social deficits present themselves after the major loss, it also was because I picked up on how it made me less tolerant to the slightest of anxiety. The day came when I’d had literally the worst day in my life, second to that of losing my mom, and I left work with a suicide kit. I figured if I drank a whole bottle in the biggest size of NyQuil available, three months supply of my anti-depressant, the remaining six oxycodones and dozen muscle relaxers– with a fifth of Jose Cuervo to chase everything down. 

“No wonder, for even satan disguises himself as an angel of light.” (2 Corinthians 11:14 NIV)

This was during a convenient time for the enemy to whisper lies in my ear, because I had the house to myself most nights due to my father spending a lot of time out of town when he wasn’t working. That night I clutched to my mom’s bible and laid in my bed pleading to God to let me die. Because I couldn’t take the world anymore. By the grace of God (literally) I survived that and with zero medical intervention. What ended up happening was a few hours later, I rolled to the side of my bed and expelled my guts so violently a lung probably would’ve came up next. I went back to sleep and awoke around 1:00 pm the next day. I couldn’t stop shaking. Now I know why, after my pharmacy knowledge many years later–my body was in what’s called serotonin syndrome. This means the central nervous system is in shock and misfires signals throughout the whole body because it doesn’t know what message is to go where. Picture a switchboard operator in the fifties working all by her lonesome in a place like say the World Trade Center. 

Biblically speaking, addiction in and of itself was not addressed as such in those days. However, it falls in line much the same with handling temptations from the devil. God wants us to love our bodies, because He created us in His image. Ask any artist ever, and they’ll tell you they don’t like their masterpiece being adulterated. But there are so many scriptures which speak of overcoming such temptation, this one popping out at me in the current moment.

“Walk by the Spirit and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh.” (Galatians 5:16-17 NIV)

This is to say that as long as you realize you have a problem, you can find truth that The Lord has you under his wing and only wants what is best for you. And usually there always comes a point in any person’s battle of addiction and they can understand that they have a problem needing addressed. This is the devil’s handiwork, and his resume for destruction is so long, it would wrap around the world three thousand times. Probably more. 

Thanks for sticking with me today as I had two very long posts. I just felt this was important to share (the movie and my personal account to addiction and struggle). Make today great, because today is the day The Lord has made… Amen!

How We Can Learn a Powerful Message from Such a Dramatic Movie

This week’s movie related post comes with quite a heavy heart. Not only because it’s literally a fresh topic for so many parents in today’s generation, but also because it hits close to home for me. I can only praise Jesus that my situation did not wind up like the severity of the situation as it did in the film. I wanted to do a comparative-contrast of the movie’s plot and how God works in our lives. This commentary does not reflect the film’s associations, this is purely for the sake of my blog. Today, there will be two parts and this is the first entry. I recommend reading this one first so you can have context for the second one, which is my personal story as promised above.

I just finished watching “Ben is Back” with Julia Roberts and an actor I haven’t previously been familiar with, Lucas Hedges. I’d seen some of this movie previously but was so pre-occupied with something else that it was merely background noise. Let me start off and just tell you that if you haven’t seen this film yet, and you have seen previews for it and want to in the future, this post is going to give major spoilers. And in the interest for caution, it’s very emotional and is chock-full of explicit language. Other than the adult theme of drug addiction and the language, there isn’t any visible nudity and if you have teens in the home which are exposed to this sort of language, I would say that this film is definitely more of an educational (see; eye opening) movie about the grave dangers of addiction.

This is the story of Ben Burns, a young man who shows up on his mother’s doorstep by surprise the evening before Christmas. Shunned by his half siblings and stepfather, Ben is graced with open arms at the welcome of his mother Holly (Julia Roberts). He was supposed to have been in his rehab facility out of town, where he’d been for 77 days, and within ten minutes of being reunited with his mom for the holiday, her parental suspicion still kicked in and she did what I’m sure any parent would do in this situation by setting out on a quick scavenger hunt to hide away any potential sources where he could break his sobriety. But there was so much love, so much warmth of her wanting her son home for even 24 hours to celebrate Christmas with the family.

After literally a couple hours of being back home, Ben and his mom go to the mall where he can find gifts to give his younger siblings, where he crosses paths with his past. This is precisely an excellent example of how the enemy is always attempting to slither his way into our lives and steal away what is most precious through the object of temptation. First and foremost, this is a realistic depiction for anyone battling any addiction, may it be drugs, alcohol, etc.

While he overcomes that obstacle of running into an old contact from the days he was using, destruction begins to creep in while waiting for his mom in the cafe-court who’s bringing back smoothies to their table after taking a break from shopping. There, she stumbles across an elderly couple, where the older man used to be their family physician but now has some sort of condition such as Alzheimer. When he tells Holly that he doesn’t remember Ben, she reminds him by thanking him for prescribing the painkillers a couple years before when Ben injured himself snowboarding, upping the dosage and assuring her that they were not addictive. In fact, quite emphatically ending the interaction with, “I hope you die a horrible death.” You see, this is the level of hurt that addiction inflicts on the entire family of someone with addiction issues. Consequently when it resulted in an accident with a family friend’s daughter losing her life at the hands of Ben’s convincing her to get hooked.

After attending a support group for anyone in the realm of addiction, they continue their pursuit for finding him an outfit to wear to the Christmas Eve service at church. There, he comes clean to Holly about having a couple pills on his possession which he found in the attic. Though, he uses the excuse that he took them from a girl at the meeting because she disclosed to him she wanted to use that night. Fast-forward to Christmas Eve service where they walk past the mother of Ben’s friend who died because he influenced her to become hooked on painkillers and heroin. Holly talks with her to break the ice and is surprised to welcome a hug, instead of the cold shoulder she was expecting.

The family arrives back home to find the place had been broken into and their dog missing. Ben suspected that it was the person from his past which he came in contact with hours before at the mall. He runs out to go search for their dog with his mom chasing after him in the car. Mind you, this is literally in the midnight hour and the single most night a mother is preparing to set up for Christmas morning, she is assisting her son on the search for their dog at whatever cost necessary. Along the exhausting journey around the city, she learns details of her son’s past he’d never shared with her before. You can just tell her heart is hurting and she grows closer to him and wants to continue fighting with him to uncover leads which help them find their dog, because it’s assumed someone from his past took the dog because Ben owed them money. She withdraws her daily limit at the ATM and unhooks the expensive locket around her neck just to help Ben bring their dog home.

He finds out who took their pet and while stopped at a gas station, he steals her car to go handle business. This leaves a very angry and desperate mother on the search for not only their dog, but her beloved son whom she is assuming is going to put himself in harms way. The devil loves a good chase just for extra heart-ache, doesn’t he? She turns up at the mother’s home who was celebrating the first Christmas without her daughter. She quickly returns to the living room with an already expired Narcan kit, instructing Holly how to administer it if God forbid it was needed, followed by handing her the keys to her own car. “Go find your son.”

I was blown away at the amazing show of grace and forgiveness, when many other parents would hold a grudge like this forever. I really believe that there are people in this world who have so much Faith in God and learn how to be so forgiving. I’d also like to believe that this is an excellent example of having a clear connection to Jesus and not giving into the enemy whom loves nothing more than to draw a major gap between a victim and an offender.

Make sure that no one pays back evil for evil. Instead, always pursue what is good for each other and for everyone else. (1 Thessalonians 5:15 NIV)

The rest of the film is a gripping testament of a mother seeking her son who has not given up on them, because in the bottom of their heart, they believe that their son [Ben] is going to make it through without using. After another long assumed hour or two, Ben is seen retrieving their dog from the guys who took it, but only in exchange for a favor which requires him to yet more encounter a dangerous situation. He completes the task but it doesn’t go without temptation of a “taste” of the product he helped retrieve for the dealer in the snakelike phrase no doubt the enemy loves to use most in people: “You’ve earned this.” As humans, there’s no greater phrase than to draw a person to sin than justifying said sin as a means of “deserving it.”

Which, on his trip back home with the dog, he’s seen clutching the small packet of whatever drug it is consuming his mind. The actor (Lucas Hedges) does a great job at portraying such a thematic element which would otherwise be hard to express in a book. You can clearly feel him saying to himself, “I deserved this and It’s all my fault tonight happened.” He stops at a pharmacy drive-thru to purchase insulin needles (which is not realistic, but this is just a movie) and he finds a farm to pull into, leaving a note with his mother’s phone number and locks the dog in the car.

As soon as Holly had given up on finding her son (assuming he was dead in a ditch somewhere), she gets a call from the property owner to pick the dog up and her car. The dog leads her straight to the barn where Ben is found with the needle sticking from his arm and he’d taken enough to send his body into the process of overdose. Luckily, by the grace of God, that other mother equipped her with the Narcan kit and she hoped against hope that its expiration date didn’t affect its efficacy. In a very bone chilling, tear purporting sixty seconds, she administers the rescue drug and hovers over his still body. God answered her prayer instantly and Ben regains consciousness. The final frame ends with relief and so much love for her son as if she were about to say, “It’s okay and I won’t ever give up on you.”

I think of this entire story and relate to to the real world full of God’s children. He never gives up on us, through all our times of trouble and triumph, He’s there.

“The Lord is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love.” (Psalm 145:8 NIV)

So my friends, whether you are personally dealing with a vice yourself or a loved one, know the above scripture is definitely for you and you have another chance to put your Faith in God’s abundant forgiveness. You are not condemned eternally for your sins and afflictions, because through Christ Jesus’s ultimate sacrifice, we were saved before we even came into this world.

“For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.” (John 3:17 NIV)

**Remember, TODAY I have scheduled a two part blog post. This was about the film itself and the second entry is my personal story which is a testament to a battle I faced myself with addiction. And yes, by the grace and mercy of His Holiness, my story did not end and I have won that fight through the ultimate price Jesus paid for me.

How a Shoddy Weather App Helped Me Listen to God’s Plan

It’s a brand new week and what an amazing journey the past couple of weeks have been for me. As you’ve read through my blog upon my return to faith writing–turning my personal thoughts and experiences into relatable moments for you–I can honestly say with a very happy heart I know what I’m being called to do by God. And you know what? It’s something I have done much of already, but not quite on the level He wants. In fact, I asked him to speak to me as I took another piping hot shower, “God please tell me what you’re calling me to do.” To which he responded:

“You’ve already begun your calling. You just backslid for some time, but I have you back on the right path.” 

Well if you were to ask me a couple weeks ago, what I thought my calling was, I’d have given you a blank stare. My shoulders would be in a tight shrug while the crickets chirped awkwardly. Then as I attended an Equip class at my church called “Recognizing Your Spiritual Calling,” I started to pick up on some ideas… but it wasn’t until the final three minutes of class when I had been given a clue. It wasn’t just because the room was quiet as Pastor Paul had us participate in this exercise. It was ultimately because I opened my mind and my heart to truly listen to God. I’d been listening to God for the past couple weeks, pretty much every waking minute. But through it all… some direction. Paul told us to write down what we heard pop into our minds. It wasn’t a whisper, rather just implicitly clear. 

“I want you to turn your voice into something for the betterment of society.” 

As class let out, I prepared to make my trek home. I slipped in my earphones and stepped outside to find that my weather app lied big time. I’m starting to think we ought to give more grace to TV weathermen everywhere because they rely on this same technology and its accuracy leaves much to be desired. Of course I was walking home in a heavier downpour than when I first entered the building a couple hours earlier, but the app said it was going to have stopped raining by the time class let out. I told God, “You know what? Keep it coming down. I’m no stranger to water. You know this!” In fact, water is the one element I seem to connect with God best in. 

On my walk home, I started getting these ideas and trying to think of the keyword The Almighty instilled into my head not but minutes earlier. Voice. No, I’m a horrible singer no matter how much I love to sing and dance alone in the house. Voice. What on His green earth did he mean? Certainly it had nothing to do with my voice in an audible medium because my voice is meek and tiny. I’m Autistic and try as I might, not many people really listen to what I have to tell them when I speak up. Surely it has something to do with my missing tooth which turns my smile into that of a Jack-O-Lantern at Halloween. 

No, no, no. That’s not what He was getting at. He meant turning my voice into something for the betterment of society. Of course. I got it! I had enough courage to speak up in the class in front of practically thirty other people to ask “Does God put a person through years of struggling in order to teach them some sort of lesson?” To which he replied of the like, “God doesn’t purposely put anyone through torment via abuse, He doesn’t cause wars, He wants the opposite of conflict all around. But He is definitely known for using someone’s struggling experiences to help the world for the greater good of serving Him.” 

Okay, okay, okay. I got it now, I thought as I reached 5th and Main Street. Little Voice… I have a little voice and He wants me to raise it for some greater good. He wants me to take the past three years of hurt and exhausting struggle to HELP others. How could I start something like that? I wondered. If there is something I can say that I think I am good at, it’s writing. Writing is a voice. So, that was a start, but more or less, I needed to connect the keypoints of how God uses us to deliver our “Calling.” 

I have several years of pharmacy experience, and I am good at the written word. I have an easier time helping make blog posts relatable so others can find something to resonate with which may help them through their personal struggles. But how would a measly blog help serve others? It doesn’t. But perhaps a book is. A book which could be accessible in libraries and church bookstores telling my story of a very large road of depression and how turning to Jesus can be that leap someone needs to help cure their depression. And if they can’t afford it, perhaps that it also be available in non-profit organizations and clinics so anyone socioeconomic class can have access to such material. 

So it’s a book. That’s a good start to identifying my steps toward meeting God’s plan for my life as a christian. Yes, there are lists of books which serve the same purpose. But everyone has a different story, and what may not resonate with Jane, might resonate with Jack. Perhaps Jack is also an adult on the Autism spectrum and finds parallels with my story of fighting the enemy in a multi-year battle of depression and three suicide attempts, just to name a couple of key points. Though, my battle goes deeper than just being a bipolar autistic guy with a history of suicide. 

And this, my friends, is just the first step of God’s plan for my life. But I couldn’t think of any better idea and I can’t help but only take partial credit for this idea because it’s many thanks to the guidance of our great Father for helping me chart this first stepping stone to my spiritual calling.  Ohhhh and just as I went to schedule this post, my radio started playing the song ‘Let It Rain (Is There Anybody)’ by Crowder and Mandisa. If that’s not divine confirmation, I don’t know what is!! 

Why Depression is Just Like Cancer…

I laid in bed all day yesterday. I slept. I wept. I ate, went to the bathroom and rested even more. Today, I placed my hand over my heart and I felt the strength of its beat. I’m alive because HE LIVES, I felt God’s love right there in the center of my chest. To be frank, being faithful isn’t easy. But it’s not hard either. It just simply is. One day can feel victorious and the next can be a giant soaked up pillow.

Living with severe depression is not something that is easily ductile like having faith. I do feel that the worsening of depression is the enemy seeking to destroy and steal our heart. But today, I’m beating and fighting back. It may come easier some days than others, but that’s okay. God forgives our weary hearts when we are heavy laden. It’s just in the nature of the Holy Spirit to offer that comfort. But whether we feel it that day or not, is a different story.

Severe clinical depression is just as deadly as cancer as it eats away inside the mind cell by cell. Medication can be helpful. In my case, it just keeps me “at bay.” What makes me better, you ask? TRUE FAITH. HOPE IN JESUS CHRIST. You may have read an earlier post where I talk about suicide and my attempt. That was not a fun time. That was exactly the devil inside my brain, building a fire and telling me lie after lie. Today, I can overcome those thoughts because of my faith. But don’t be fooled, it’s not like turning a light switch on or off. It’s a real battle from day to day.

In the bible, David suffered from a depression.

Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am faint; heal me, Lord, for my bones are in agony. My soul is in deep anguish. How long, Lord, how long? Psalm 6:2-3 NIV

What helps? Daily reminder and closeness to Jesus. I do this through a daily devotional book. I’m also working through The Purpose Driven Life by Rick Warren and I am about to start reading The Story which is The Bible told in chronological order as the stories unfolded and happened. This is my daily reminders and closeness, a study to deepen a more intimate relationship with Jesus that helps me. And through this, I can have faith knowing I will one day dwell in the house of the Lord– just as David’s prayer was answered and he overcame his depression throughout the scripture.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Psalm 23:5-6 NIV

Before I even stepped out of bed today, I got a call for another job interview at a different place tomorrow. So tonight I worship Jesus for this new opportunity to shine and offer my hope that this is where I may land if it so be God’s will.

But importantly, I hope everyone has a great rest of the week! Oh and here’s a song for everyone’s Wednesday afternoon.

Plastic Doesn’t ‘Always’ Make it Possible (and here’s why)…

This isn’t a brand new post. Some of you will remember this topic– especially if you live in or around Hamilton County back in my other home of Indiana. I posted this topic on the old Christian blog and everyone was coming into my pharmacy telling me how much they liked it and said they’d be asking for paper bags on the next trip to the grocery. But as I recount all my friends that are experiencing some hardships right now, this bears repeating. For myself included.

Recently I’ve been left wondering while in the grocery store checkout line why the clerks never ask for our preference any more—paper or plastic? It’s been an age-old inquiry that consumers from all walks of life have had to resolve ever since the first commercially available plastic grocery bag was introduced to the market in 1982. Thanks Wikipedia. But as of lately, I can’t help but question why we no longer are given that choice each time. Of course paper will always be available, however only upon request. I won’t deny that plastic bags seem to carry heavier items and if you’re like me, then you carry it all at once saving multiple trips unloading groceries upon reaching home. But the paper bags? They’re so roomy and can fit many items. However they’re very insubstantial when carrying heavier canned goods and the like. I know you must be thinking now, Carl would you just get to the point? This is probably the most boring thing I’ll read all week. But friends, I promise by the end of this post you might hopefully be able to grasp onto the thought provoking concept that I’m suggesting.

I’d like to think that our lives are in this 50/50 quandary all the time. You see, our soul is the grocer to our lives. It feeds us knowledge, it rewards us with our own unique personalities and it certainly doesn’t go without letting a few bad apples leave the orchard. On a daily basis we find ourselves faced with difficulties and hard times. It shouldn’t take my pharmaceutical expertise for you to know that one of the most popular drugs on the market is Zoloft or its generic formulation (Sertraline). Zoloft is a medication prescribed to treat neurological imbalances that lead to panic disorders, major depressive disorders and obsessive compulsivity. Depression is at an all-time extreme in our society today and I’d be lying if I said we might be able to cure some (not all) but definitely some of the darkness our hearts are shrouded with. In the letter Paul wrote to the people of Philippi, he communicates the importance of handing over their troubles to God.

“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7 NIV)

What the great apostle speaks of is that God doesn’t want us to hold onto our burdens. We need to choose that paper bag. It sure is less durable and it means more trips out to the car, but I think it might behoove any and all of us to do so. You see, we hold onto everything and I myself can be to blame for carrying it all around in a plastic bag with handles. Life doesn’t have to be as hard as we make it. Paul spoke to the townspeople about anxiety and worry. He aimed to encourage them (most of them being retired military families) to become unified and stray away from conceit. Today, I’m certain we all need personal and professional challenges to keep our minds fresh and the exercise (or lack thereof in my case) does us a lot of good. Those are the things that God wants us to carry upon our shoulders—tasks, goals, faith and love. Everything else should be cast upon Him. If we have faith that He’ll guard our hearts and minds through His son Jesus, then we shouldn’t have to worry about it anymore because God will deliver our needs through guidance and lessons. Sorry we won’t be getting that in the form of a government handout, but He will ensure we have the skills to earn it.

So you see, paper bags are meant to be handled delicately. Our soul is providing our life the ability to carry around the things we need. Those things we need are simple and lightweight and if we require more needs than others, then it will require more trips out to the car. But that’s okay because we need the exercise and besides—hard work always pays off. So why do the clerks never ask anymore? Is it the societal norm that because everyone uses plastic that you’d choose it too? What’s easiest must be best, they might think. But in truth, our overpowering ego makes us think that we can fit five or six plastic bags on each arm thus allowing us to carry much heavier loads. All that might potentially do is give us a serious back injury and then we’d be crying over spilled milk for certain. I also think there’s a reason most grocery store paper bags do not have handles. Biblically speaking, God doesn’t give us anything we can’t handle. And if it doesn’t all fit inside our arms at once, then there’s a reason he doesn’t want us to carry more than we can handle.

What does this mean for us? Simplify. Only carry the lighter things in life and hand Him anything that weighs us down. Ask for paper at the grocery store and recycle them afterwards. Make that second and third trip back to your car if required. If you take medication to aid in a mood disorder such as depression or anxiety, maybe simplifying things here and there will add up and perhaps in a year or two you won’t need that pill anymore. I sure am going to say goodbye to plastic bags from now on also.

Just a sidebar… paper bags are an organic element from one of God’s gifts to us (His green Earth)whereas plastic is synthetic and unheard of in biblical days. There’s a reason Jesus walked in leather sandals after all.

Hi, I’m Carl and I thought I’d lost faith. BUT…

Hello, My name’s Carl and I am a recovering prayer wimp. Not proud of it, not ashamed. I’m honored to have came to such a crossroads in life yet again as I seem to learn the very best during these times. Does it mean that since I’ve fallen off the wagon, that I’ll fall off again along the way? Maybe. But I can only pray that this new sense of purpose and understanding of things that I’d not understood ever before– will hopefully stick with me and the next time I fall I still sing my praises to God for I’ll get right back up and walk forward. Thanks to author Max Lucado, I can relate to the term “prayer wimp” because the last few months I had only prayed for the rude and hurtful people standing in front of me to disappear. I also realized last time I had a great blog that I faithfully made a priority to share new inspiration with fellow family and friends, my enjoyment in sharing the teachings of Christ led me to see I was learning them all at the same time. And it kept me on the right path of living and loving just as Christ wants all of us to do.

This time of year I was elated. If you know me personally, you would know that I was officially baptized on October 27^th of 2013. That was a joyous day and I will never forget that day ever. Okay, even if my brain fails me… I was so full of life that day and the days following. I’d lost people in my life and regained them within less than 6 months time. I realized that distance provides healing, but reconnected restores everything good. Fast forward to April of this year. I had lost almost everything my life in Indiana had offered. A suitable job, a suitable faith (so I thought), my declining health and lack for a better word– I lost my mind! I moved back on the first Thursday of April and by the first Thursday of the next month, I’d had not a grip on anything remaining in my life. I returned to drinking rather heavily because I’d given up on everything above that I thought I’d lost. At least some liquor therapy would make me happy, right? Not so much when I also have Hepatitis C. I should have abstained from alcohol forever. But the devil fancies nothing more than a web of conceit and indulgence at any cost.

Because I thought I’d lost a handle on my faith, I continued going in to a profession I swore back in January that I’d never return to. What made that happen, you ask? Money. You know, the greener devil? I saw a better promise for wages and went straight back into the line of work I didn’t enjoy because I’d at least be making more to compensate the unhappiness. But happy as I am to be here today to proclaim my faith is fully restored and I personally vow to never return to that state of living again, I must admit the foolish mistakes led me down a path of darkness. The winding roads being shots of liquor and the long stretches of road being the lies I told myself, my friends and family and even more so to the God I started UN-believing in.

Because of my faulty logic that drinking would make me at least happier and the ultimate stress of a chaotic workplace, my liver became inflamed to the point it did last year and I started dealing with all the lovely symptoms that I’ll spare you from reading about. Last Thursday I was about to check out of the world. I didn’t see any more resolve and I certainly didn’t think it would have mattered if there even was. To end the physical pain, the mental anguish and all the mistakes I’ve made again since being washed free of them only a year ago– I planned on injecting three vials (30 mL or 3,000 units) of short acting insulin. I’d planned on this precise time this week not being in existence.

Thankfully, the last opportunity for intervention knocked when I’d given it a final permission. Thankfully I’m here to tell you that God doesn’t forget about us even when we may have forgotten about Him. In these days following I’ve been more closer to God than I have all year. I’ve realized that I need to get out of the dark and stormy work environment that I absolutely despise and back to a place that I absolutely enjoyed. I have already began that process and my rekindled Faith, my new understanding and the new things I have learned from two separate books will help that happen come to the close of this week. After some fresher perspective by the always joyful Joel Osteen, I am now an already happier person than this time last week.

So allow me to be a sort of Heart Mechanic. Let me share my understanding and my stories from my own learning with you. Subscribe if you used to subscribe to the old one and if you are meeting me for the first time, subscribe anyway. I am delighted to share with you God’s Love just as He intended (at least for us in the 21^st century!) Something new I plan on doing differently with this blog will be guest posts at least once a month which will feature an article or whatever that guest prefers to share which teaches how they got to where they are spiritually or stories of how they plan to climb great limits to share His love for us all. Please come back again, for in 24 hours or less I’ll have posted my actual first non-introductive entry.