Thursday Thought: “How (are) You Doing?”

“I’m fine.” 

We’ve all been there. You know what I mean. With just the simple two words, we know deep in our hearts that we are not fine. Because all of God’s children are cut from the same cloth, we are instinctively respondent in the same manner. Sometimes we think that when someone asks how we are doing, that we shouldn’t need to burden them with our problems. Other times, I use it as a mask because we are afraid of living in the truth. The enemy makes us hide this insecurity because he wants to take our minds captive and build those sandcastles of shame over our hearts (see an earlier post last week for this reference). What happens, though, if we are honest? We could just very well be opening our hearts to the very thing we need to hear that day, that month, that year. Because Jesus is walking beside us, guiding us to the people we need most in our life, if only we could be honest with ourselves and others, we might be more prone to a further positive outcome than we ever expected. 

There was a study performed in the United Kingdom by The Mental Health Foundation. 2,000 British adults were surveyed on this very subject and concluded that the average adult responds similarly with “I’m fine.” The survey added that less than a fourth of those [19%] were being honest. Take a quick peep at this video compiled by The Mental Health Foundation in The UK. 

Of the other results from the survey, it was revealed that over half [59%] expect the answer to be a lie when we ask others how they are doing. What this tells me is, we have a huge opportunity to reach out and help make a positive impact on a person’s day. And it all starts with a genuine, more Christlike approach. Of course, we may not have all the answers that person is particularly needing. But just as Jesus would never shy away (and without any hesitation) from healing the sick, giving the blind sight, or freeing the afflicted, we have the tools necessary to lead that person in the direction they need. Yes, if you guessed praying for them in that very moment, you get a gold star. 

Even I myself have not spent a whole lot of time in the past giving consideration to asking others how they are doing. Mostly because my brain feels so predisposed to straying away from strangers. This is one of the biggest downfalls as a Christian, and I can admit wholeheartedly that I am afraid of talking to strangers. Our parents taught us this as a kid. Though because I take everything so literally, I find myself so often screaming “stranger danger” (in my mind) than letting God put me in the path of safety and giving my faith to Him for if I speak to people I don’t know, it’s not going to have a negative outcome. While it certainly may end in a neutral one, surely it could provide something fruitful.

“Anxiety in a man’s heart weighs him down, but a good word makes him glad.” (Proverbs 12:25) 

There is a pattern I’m seeing here. Take a minute and read that verse yet one more time, ten more if needed. You see what I see? The twelfth chapter and twenty-fifth verse of Proverbs. 12-25. Seems to me that sometimes the best gift [good word] we can give someone else is Jesus, as that is surely his birthdate. The single most day which our Savior was born– to give us hope. 

Seeing through the eyes of Jesus is what we are called to do, and don’t we owe it to our brothers and sisters–even those whom we don’t know from Adam (idiomatically punny)–to walk about our lives giving consideration to how others are feeling truthfully? Does it cost us anything but five or ten minutes minimum to be the answer someone is truly seeking? Our time is the only thing which is replenished completely each and every single day (without effort or earning it), yet we fail in such big ways to give this form of compassion to our fellow man. Sometimes when they’re needing it most. 

For today’s Thursday Thought, I compel you all to do what I vow to. Today, I give my genuine promise to ask those around me how they are doing. And if I get the response “I’m fine” or any gut feeling their response might be masking the truth, I will ask them how I can help them. Far be it from me to be equipped of everything they’ll need, but I can be certain of one thing–I have the bountiful promise of God through prayer to light that fire. And so do you. 

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!! 

How a Movie Helped Me Listen to the Voice of Reason

Nothing gets my imagination going quite like a good movie. It doesn’t matter if I have never seen it before, or if I’ve seen it a hundred times. Such as is the case for “The Bucket List,” as it resides in my all-time top five films ever. It will stay there, to be perfectly honest. Unless one day I’ve decided that it supersedes “The Help” or my guilty little pleasure, “Crossroads.” Yes the Britney Spears one, not the one with Alan Arkin and certainly not the one which released a year before I was born. But, this particular film “The Bucket List” is truly just an eye-opening film and I can’t say any of my other favorite movies are capable of showing me such humility in a seamless dramatic display like this.
I wrote about this movie on this very blog a couple years ago. But much like I annotated in that post, each time I watch it, I can see things from a far different angle than any other viewing since it’s release twelve years ago. I think one of the reasons God led me to watch this again tonight was to teach me the value in my journey of eating a cleaner diet. It hasn’t been the easiest for me, because if you knew me you’d know I like sweet tea and hamburgers. Or an iced cold fountain drink– full of the white monster! Yesterday when I was at the grocery, I’d picked up a bag of Stevia in the Raw because I make iced tea all the time and I just can’t drink it plain. I just can’t do it. You’re probably thinking, “Gosh Carl, I can’t is a coward too lazy to try.” But I have tried and it’s gross. Well tonight I made iced tea and used the stevia. My first sip had me trotting to the sink where I spit it out in disgust. I threw a fit. And when I throw a fit, it usually involves cursing and sending frantic text messages to everyone in my life because if I’m not happy, someone else is bound to get the same end of the schtick. To be completely honest though, this was the first time in about a week where I actually threw a major fit over something.
This time watching the movie, what stuck out most was how belittling Edward Cole (Jack Nicholson) treated his assistant whom answered his boss by the name Tommy when it was actually Matthew. Edward Cole couldn’t have been any more of an atheist and didn’t like to call Matthew (Sean Hayes) by his real name because it was, quote, “too biblical.” I find some irony here that many of you might not have even thought of. When you watch a movie, you probably just pay attention to everything at surface value because it is just a form of entertainment. I see films for every aspect of every detail and every character and I like to pick up on patterns.
What does this have to do with his assistant’s name and the link I made to the gospel of Matthew? While most of scripture is about humbleness, humility, and overcoming great challenges, Matthew seems to stand out most to me in the area of treating others kindly, and with human dignity which God wants us to.

“So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.” (Matthew 7:12 NIV)

The movie highlights many good and bad aspects and comparisons to those of us in the real world, including Nicholson’s character playing the act well of a common day jerk. Pompous. Arrogant… and Prideful. The gospel of Matthew is precisely this theme (and so much more, but this is the big one where big Matty is concerned). It [the movie] had me reevaluate my own actions and it has helped me understand that my attitude is almost no different.
While I don’t have great wealth, I fall short in this area so much. Kind of like a blog post a couple days ago when I talked about for so long in my life I acted like a spoiled doctor’s kid. But it goes deeper. And I need to change this as bad as I need air to breathe. And his [Edward Cole] need for the coffee he drinks which is probably more expensive than the total sum of wages I’ve earned this year. That isn’t technically much, but that’s a blog idea for later. Jack Nicholson’s character cannot be inconvenienced in the slightest. Such as the case tonight when I made iced tea–using the last of my tea bags mind you–and it tasted just awful. But shortly after eating my dinner, I became thirsty. While I have milk and orange juice in the fridge, I have been trying to keep my milk for eating cereal and I have to be careful about not overdoing it on juice. I huffed again, because that left me with little options. But that same voice inside my mine (you know the one of three I mentioned the other day?) and it said:

Well you need to buck it up, kid. Do you really want to have another pancreatitis attack?

Usually the voice of reason is a bitter pill to swallow. But it usually means doing what is best for us. I’m not certified to claim that stevia or splenda is better than sweet n low or healthier than real sugar. I’m just going by the scientific facts that I need to make sure I’m taking better care of my pancreas and my liver. Because this is one area my health has fallen dramatically in a matter of mere months.
Meanwhile, I reach the end of the movie and aside from the fact I personally can’t watch the last ten minutes without crying like Julia Roberts in every movie ever, I’m reminded Edward Cole swallowed his pride and made amends with his daughter whom several years went by without so much as a short phone call. This had me realizing that I needed to just swallow my pride and try the iced tea again. It wasn’t as bad as the first couple sips. In fact, I brought my attitude down to the floor where it belongs and made the decision to continue the stevia route because I cannot put a pounding on this old clunker by shoveling so much sugar down my trap like a grave digger. Because pancreatic cancer is certainly exactly that–a grave–which is not something I want to see on any paper with my name on it.
As for other ways to enjoy iced tea while it tasting sweet like molasses? If you have a better suggestion than stevia, I am willing to take any recommendations you have. I tried to to make this one short because this will go ‘live’ on Saturday and I’m sure you all have more important things to do. Enjoy it friends! See you next week.

[Extra Post] 9.13.19 – Pretty Tired Over Here, Y’all!

It’s literally 2:00am and I need a pastor. I need answers, right now. But nobody else is awake. I am. And for sure God is awake. His omnipotence never truly takes a break. For how could He with people on the other side of the world welcoming the brightness of dawn while the gentle whisper of twilight braces those of us in America to our pillows? If only I could sleep, that would be terrific. Yet here I lay at the thin veil of our Earth and God’s Almighty presence. It’s okay ultimately because I’m getting somewhat accustomed to listening to all He is nudging into my noggin which aches in a sea of new information– practically enlightenment. But I’d be lying if I didn’t have a headache. And tears because I’m trying to process each word being spoken to me as I keep up with our Alpha in this sprint of holy intervention.

Throughout the cleansing and stripping, the removing of comforts and influences which once held multiple places in my life in varying degrees, I have reason to think I’m being called to continue the process of yielding for His will. And while this one is the most peculiar of his sacrificial requests, I can’t help but continue to listen to reason. For He knows better than I, I’d be forsaking my trust in Him. However, I believe that a realistic approach to understanding this request of offering up yet another comfort in my life, is perhaps only logical. If we are to walk by faith as children of God, it’s understandable that at times, we need to ensure said faith is being tread with upon solid foundation.

Right now, I won’t disclose what I’m being told. Because I need more answers and guidance before I can get a clearer picture. I could only hope my answers come later in the mid-morning as what I truly need in order to better hear our Father, is eight hours of restful slumber. I don’t have any insightful scripture to share in this post, as this is just a sporadic entry of my thoughts. So that I may find some peace for rest. I hope you all have a wonderful morning!

How I’m (now) Trying Not to Act Like a Spoiled Doctor’s Kid

I do not like riding the bus. I’d just as well starve to death if it means enduring two long bus rides to a grocery store. I’d rather sprint backwards through a snowstorm to work (when I find a job again) than to submit myself to the agonizing misery. While that may bode well for shedding some pounds, that’s not what God wants or expects of me. But riding the bus? It’s too loud and obnoxious, usually crowded, and it’s never on time. What would be a five minute drive is an hour long circus ride, only there’s no soft drinks or cotton candy. Most of the bus drivers seem to have a stick up their butt, and there’s usually a certain level of pride which comes into play. 

Writer and theologian, C.S. Lewis once stated: 

“It was through Pride that the devil became the devil: Pride leads to every other vice: it is the complete anti-God state of mind… it is Pride which has been the chief cause of misery in every nation and every family since the world began.”

On my journey through humbleness, I realize that this is something I greatly need to adjust to. I haven’t always had the most humility in my life. Actually quite the opposite, since I was young, I’ve acted like a spoiled doctor’s kid. Though neither of my parents came even close to such a profession. Also equate into the picture that I get overstimulated and overwhelmed way easier than most, and you have a recipe for disaster. I’m scared to drive–but trust me when I tell you that you’re much safer with me not behind the wheel! 

Try as I might in this new chapter of my life, I am not perfect either. Although, I’m finding that I am adjusting my thinking. I see the world through God’s eyes and there is a certain amount of understanding in my heart now, which I kid you not, was never there before. In fact I’m sitting on the city bus right now. Mandisa blasting through my ears, and I’m holding onto my bag of groceries for dear life. If this driver makes another sharp turn or slams on the brakes one more time, my orange juice is bound to break loose and explode all over. Though I’m uncomfortable, I can sense the bus driver is having a bad day. He’s honking the horn at cars and grumbling to himself while shaking his head as steam emanates from his ears. But I sit here with an open heart, patient and humble.

“Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.” (Proverbs 16 NIV)

There’s a couple different aspects of pride coming into play here. I still feel like I shouldn’t be riding the bus, but I can’t rely on my neighbor around the corner to take me home each time– especially when her son (older than I am) is hanging on in the hospital from a septic infection after his appendix burst open requiring it to be removed. Yet I’m remaining humble because I can understand seeing the world through a different lens helps the balance of happy vs. hurt in the world. Honestly, I should just be thankful I don’t have to walk the entire way home! The other side of the prideful coin is the driver (much like every other driver, surely this isn’t you, right?) is too prideful in his abilities to operate such a big vehicle. As if to say, “Move over everybody, I am more important than you because I have a dozen passengers to get somewhere.” 

How many times have all of us been too prideful and it affected our immediate moods? Our time is no more valuable than anyone else’s and moaning like a miserable beast isn’t going to make that waitress bring your food any faster is it? As a matter of fact, from past experience I know with certainty had I let my pride get in the way, I may have said something to the driver which would with zero doubts not reflect what Jesus would do. And that sour attitude might’ve resulted in dropping my groceries all over the ground, making the rest of the afternoon ruined through eternity. 

Though, an ounce of patience and a pound of gratitude can bring satisfaction in no time at all. Thus was the case, as I am now back at home in the peace and stillness of my house. As peculiar as this sounds, I can hear this voice inside me (may it be God or just one of the thousand voices in my mind– kidding of course, I usually only have three) and it’s saying, “See? That wasn’t so bad was it?” Much like my parents would have to remind me after choking down my pride, forcing me to eat my vegetables. At eight-years-old, I was too good for veggies. I loved tomatoes, and pickles, green beans, and squash. But I hated carrots more than the enemy disdains divine intervention. I’d tell them, “These taste like dirt and I’m pretty sure we aren’t supposed to eat dirt, right?” In hindsight, I was a very snarky child. Bless my mother for making it as long as she did!

I’ve got a long way to go on this journey of humbleness, before I can think of myself as being remotely righteous or Christlike. Much like I know many of you do too, and it’s okay. But one thing I know for sure, we can all get there in due time if we just have a little more patience and shove pride deep into our britches. Learning to let go of pride is just par for the course in the grand scheme of lightening our loads, and surely it’s not as easy as snapping our fingers. Caveat, don’t we owe it to ourselves to try anyway?

I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend.

 

Why Humble Pie May Taste like Liver… but It’s as Good For Us as Broccoli

I’m finding myself in a new season of my life. This past week has been one of cleansing and restoration– of which is still in the process I’m quite sure of. God has removed two people from my life whom I thought would’ve been in it forever. But for one reason or another, I’m being shown by His Holiness that simplifying is the way to Him. I’m becoming free from the prison of want. And I say this with a heavy heart, and at the cost of sounding like a whiny twelve-year old, while I know in the deepness of my soul that it’s the right thing to do, it is not coming easy.
I’ve stripped off even the most basic comforts. While I haven’t really ever owned furniture, I hadn’t really needed it in recent years. How can one person living singularly require so much stuff when I can only be in one place at one time? I don’t have a dog demanding for some high throne of a couch to rest easy on. I don’t have a ginormous armchair to take decent naps in. I don’t have big electronics like televisions. My desktop computer is broken and my basic HP laptop is just enough. I don’t have an iPhone. I don’t have an iPad. I have a basic smart phone which equips me with just enough technology to perform tasks in this new century. Do I really need them? No, I don’t really need any of it. It’s just stuff. For most of my life, I have learned to make it on way less than most people in First World countries rich of resources, and plush with comforts.
If you were to have asked me two weeks ago what I was doing with my evening, I’d have honestly told you I was making memes or preparing to launch a graphic apparel webstore with snarky, funny, quippy designs and phrases. Humor can be a great thing, but I can only think now that it wasn’t truly a great idea. I was watching shows on Netflix which couldn’t be any further from the kinds of content God wants in my life. But since a week ago, I have been in this restorative phase. I deactivated my Facebook, Messenger and Instagram accounts. I have deleted Netflix and Hulu. God hasn’t stopped speaking for me to even get a word in edge-wise. And if any of you truly know me, I tend to dominate a conversation. I’ve been fully immersed in His Word and frequently, I’m stumbling upon stories and messages which are just exactly what I need to hear in the current moment. He has shown me the way He wants me to live and while I’m no stranger to change, as a weary Autistic man, it is not coming easy.
This morning God spoke to me–actually it was almost like a shout–after caterwauling that I’d be giving up the new bed I had acquired in May.

“There are more important things you are being given to focus on besides that of which you stress of, which are small and such petty things. Do you not trust me?”

Ouch! For a minute (honestly several hours, just ask the person from Indiana He put in my life as a trusted “life adviser”), I was pouting over the impending loss of the only thing which I thought was letting me rest… easy. I knew that it was a pragmatic choice because the payments were causing me great burden in my mind. (See; The Prison of Want). But humbling yourself to give something back to God because it’s become a negative element in your mind–especially when you’re greatly afraid of the pests which living in Historic Downtown Grand Junction brings constantly–does not come easy.
At 11:00 am, I called to have the workmen come retrieve my bed. And by 2:30 pm, I had re-constructed the old one I’d been using for years which is wrangled with flaws and discomforts. I wonder why I even kept it because surely sleeping directly on the ground would be easier in a physical sense. Ironically enough, it takes up way less space in my bedroom than the one I gave back to Him. I texted my relative from Indiana, saying, “I’m just so tired. I haven’t been able to sleep the last week because I keep listening to everything God is telling me to do.” By 3:00 pm, I was so tired that I finally just laid down to take a decent nap. I woke up in a far greater state of mind. Albeit, I missed the last class at church this week which I’d signed up to attend, but something tells me that it was not a selfish decision. This was precisely what God wanted of me today, so that I could… “rest easy.”
You might be picking up on a theme by now, and I promise I’ll stop going off on seemingly innocuous tangents and get to the point. But stick with me as you have thus far. The theme of this story is not yet over and it probably won’t even be complete until my future posts which will come throughout the rest of September.
Yesterday, I read about the story of Hannah. Hannah was the primary wife to Elkanah (The Hebrew translation has him as a prophet) whom practiced polygamy. Hannah was not given the gifts of laboring children like her sister wives were, after feeling years of great need to raise a child of her own. Finally the day came when she visited the sanctuary in Shiloh to cry out to God and seek understanding why she has been denied such basic human abilities other women had plenty of. She promised to The Lord that if He gave her a son, she would give him back to God as a tool of aiding God in His work. Whereupon, The Lord listened to her petitions and gave her a son (namesake for the book of Samuel).

After she raised Samuel and gave him to The Lord for His service, God reopened her womb and throughout the rest of her life, gave birth to five more children. (1 Samuel 2:20-21)

So while some may think of me weirdly for giving my bed back to God, I had a purpose, yet a mission to do so. So that I may not rely on such worldly pleasures like others can, because it is within my journey to remain purely Faithful to Him through His son, Christ Jesus. Going back to the little hints dropped above, this is to say that not everything we do in our life is going to be “easy” and sometimes the right thing is always the hardest to experience. But knowing that it’s helping me in my growth as a Christian, I can’t help but take solace in the Psalm [23] of David, “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not… want.” Perhaps what I needed to take from the story was by giving my bed back to God and humbling myself yet more, in the future he will provide me with a different bed that doesn’t set such a burden in my mind. But I have to earn it.
In the midst of writing this entry, I stopped and took a piping hot shower. This is what I always do when I need to ask and receive true clarity. I needed more guidance from The Almighty how to finish this post. Which if you’ve made it this far, thank you. I take no greater pleasure than sharing my experiences with like minded people. And if my blog helps even one person understand the things they need to make different in their life so that they may provide God with the time and attention He asks from them, then I suppose this will all be worth it. I’m certain it was from Him when I heard, “Anything which does not come through me, is not for me. Take pleasure in Me, for I know what is good for you.” Now that’s probably some scripture somewhere, and because I am no great liturgist, I will go back through to keyword search and see if it really is spattered between millions of texts in the ‘good book.’ But I can take joy in the offering of “humble pie” He’s sat before me. Whether it tastes just as good as it is beneficial, I’ll get back with you. 😉
I can only begin to imagine that this is all the result of praying a truthful prayer, “Break my heart, God, for what breaks yours.” That prayer in and of itself was a major highlight of my class at church last night. Our Pastor told us that it would bring about hard decisions (which I’m sure today was the start of many) in our pursuit of finding God’s calling for our lives. In this particular area of my life, I can “easily” apply this scripture which bears so much weight, and so much promise:

“That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:10 NIV)

Well folks, we’ve all made it halfway through the week. Let’s keep our heads held high for the rest of it. Be good to yourselves, and think of what you might be holding onto that has you a prisoner of want.

Special considerations also go to author Max Lucado, for helping me see these bigger pictures in his book, Traveling Light.

Why I’m Back… and How I’m Going to Stick Around

It’s been over two years since I posted on this blog. Conversely, it’s also when I’d began down another dark road full of even more depression. I cannot tell you how many times in my life I may stop writing within this blog in the future. The truth is, I’m a thirty-two-year-old Bipolar Autistic man inside the body of a seventy-year-old with varying mentalities ranging from eighteen to eighty. Sometimes my interests stick around as long as a hot afternoon. Some things have remained for decade. This explains my faith, almost to the very core. There are outside influences which sway me into this direction or that, as if it’s a gust of wind. In fact, my spiritual beliefs and methods of understanding them frequently bounce from notion to notion. You see, I don’t like this consequence of my life, and as much as I try to keep that from happening, some of it’s just written into the hardwiring of my brain. While I have a second post diving deep into one area of my current world– comparing and contrasting it to a biblical story of a similar theme, this post is just intended to reintroduce myself and catch you up to speed on where I am in a spiritual sense.

The past two years have brought another slaughter of challenges I’d never imagined being presented with, some which your typical human being should only have to experience once. Yet, my soul doesn’t seem to learn from mistakes the first time.

And a lot of my problems have certainly been repeated twice or more– as satan sits indian-style in my mind, constructing sand castles of shame.

I’m thankful that Jesus washes them out frequently, cleaning the slate and offering me reprieve. Yet I’m no less vulnerable to the serpents of life as anyone else in our world, I have trust issues. And this needs to change. I need a radical faith restoration like people in third world countries need drinking water free of parasites. Part of my problems with this vulnerability is tied directly with my sociability restraints. I couldn’t just count on both hands and feet combined, how many times I’ve been hurt by some pretty cruel individuals, or aligned myself with the wrong kinds of friends. By the same token, I’ve had some incredibly valuable relationships. But much like there are four seasons each year, every few years I find myself shedding someone from my life because it seemed like the season of our bond had reached it’s limit for this worldly pleasure. Though, the one constant who is always in our corner [Jesus] has not been given the airplay he deserves. However, I can realize my need for God’s guidance and unwavering adoration for me as His child. That’s why I’m back to this blog. And while I am going to say I don’t want to stray away again, time is of the essence where I take different steps and approaches to keeping that from happening.

If you have followed this blog in years past, you’d know that on January 9th, 2017, I attempted to take my own life. It wasn’t the first time to happen. And it certainly wasn’t the last. October 14 of that same year was the more weighted doozy of trying to force God’s expiration date for my life– something only He is privy to. That caused me to spend over a week in the hospital recovering from the damage I had caused on my body, before I could spend two weeks in the psychiatric hospital healing from the detriment it had on my mind and soul. Technically, that was a long process. Perhaps one which lasted a whole additional two years.

During those dark times, I had the few good supports who’d stuck by my side. Those who’d I’d chosen to be considered family when those in my own bloodline forced me time and time again to compete for their help and basic love. What I was missing through all that was a new church home. In 2014 when I moved back to Western Colorado from Central Indiana, I also left behind my previous church home– the one which I was proudly baptized just months prior to relocating. Some of the same factors stayed the same through this last couple years of finding myself. The same friends, the same roof where I’m more than grateful to have over my head each and every day. I don’t have any excuses for what, why, or how, but I should have re-instilled the importance of my faith a long time ago.
Finding a church where I felt comfortable and could find similarities to that of Northview Church in Carmel, has been more than a daunting task. It almost seemed non-existent. And in the interest of transparency, I’d tried my hand at Buddhism and Judaism through the course of struggle– only to be reminded that my life chart clearly has me earmarked for Christianity. Yet, just a mere few blocks away is my new church– one I hadn’t completely considered “home” until recently. I’d occasionally attend this one downtown, or I’d sometimes catch the online videos. You see, sometimes it feels better to worship from a distance because of my fear of people. But in recent weeks, I’ve noticed the weekly messages aligning so parallel to my life and current situations, that I can comfortably call it my new church home. This being a result of my strongly intuitive self, and listening to it begging for a consistent place of worship to nourish it like a wholesome home cooked meal.

Just the week previously, this same inner voice screamed loudly within my head about a task that I was putting off for the last 6 months or so. There’s a saying everyone is familiar with, yet so many people like myself would rather drive a nail into our eye sockets before we considered following such seemingly shallow advice. “Sometimes loving someone means setting them free.” But each time I’d hear that in my heart, there the enemy was placating the truth and erecting yet another sandy kingdom– holding my soul hostage and preventing me from listening to God tell me that our relationship was headed right over a broken path.

Letting go of her is one of the hardest things I’ve done in the last few years. However in finally doing so, I’ve been privy to a mind with just a bit more clarity and guidance. Almost instantly, the trajectory of my life’s path has shifted and offered me so much hope. I don’t have solid answers whether this new career path (one of which is the doorway to my dream job) is going to be in God’s plan. I interviewed on Thursday and I should find out this week whether they chose me or not. But, what I know for sure is that God is moving the necessary mountains for His will to be done, because I’m finally listening to my intuition and doing the hard work necessary in order to see the horizon clearly.

I hope everyone has a great new week ahead, and look for the future post I mentioned above because I guarantee it’s going to be a valuable reminder for anyone– not just for myself.

Why I’ve Yet to Give Joy to Others…

Last night I watched one of my truly favorite movies– The Bucket List. While I could probably recite the movie in my sleep, details keep popping out at me that I didn’t quite catch the previous umpteenth times of viewing. When Carter played by Morgan Freeman and Edward played by Jack Nicholson are in Egypt, they are talking about the Egyptians determination of granting permission into their eternal glory at the end of life. Carter says it’s based on being asked two questions– 1) Have you found joy? and 2) Have you given joy to others?

I stopped in the middle of that scene, laid my head down to pray and go to sleep. I couldn’t help but ponder what my answers to those questions would be. Shoot, if I were Egyptian– I guess I’d be out of luck, I thought to myself. But that leaves me at a conundrum of sorts in relation to the Christian theology. The only way to the Kingdom of heaven is through Jesus Christ. But does that mean we’ve brought joy to others just because we’ve found joy through accepting Jesus as our Lord and Savior? To be Christ like, we are to bring joy and peace to others. So in a sense, that question can be summed up for us too. But still I thought, I’d be straight out of luck. Until I spoke with my friend Ida on the phone today.

Sure, I have found joy. I have found true bliss being saved as a son of Christ. Putting my everlasting faith in him is something I’d struggled with for quite some time until recently, but joy it certainly brings now. So yes, I have finally found simply, joy. The knowledge that God is working all things together for a greater purpose and good in my life brings me happiness so long as I continue to place such faith in him. But how have I brought joy to others? I tried to look beyond the material things and every day relationships. I ignored current and past friendships.

I was looking at a void full of strangers only, in a place where I don’t do too well with– unfamiliar people. Have I brought them joy? I think I still fall short in this category because I don’t acknowledge the countless homeless population and beggars on the street. My heart can be real cynical and I know that this is my hugest downfall as a Christian. I don’t go out of my way for a certain percentage of the population. I can be an outgoing person, but it’s never once been for a wanderer around town. It might have something to do with the Aspie in me and how my brain is wired, sure. But if I am to be completely Christ like, I need to see the world through the eyes of Jesus and not my own. I need to be more acknowledging and humbler around them, for some of their concerns are genuine and truly worse off than mine.

My friend Ida spoke with me today and said “Of course you’ve brought joy to others– you’ve made an impact on all your friends. Myself included.” So I’ve brought joy to many, but not by the masses. I think I’ve just found my next prayer item now. I need to see the world through the eyes of Christ as he would instead of how I do, then and only then will my perspective change so very much. The song below is by Brandon Heath and matches this theme 100%. So have you found joy and given joy to others? I wanna hear some of your responses below.

How I Know God Has Spoken…

There comes a point in our lives when we just have to say “No”. May it be a parent disciplining a child or a man declining a highly caloric coffee beverage (okay let’s just get this clear– that is NEVER ME), there are often doorways for the two letter word. If there’s one thing I have had to learn by now at barely 30 years old, it’s the wisdom to not accept every first offer brought upon your way. Who knows if it’s really the enemy intervening instead? In today’s world, I think it should be common knowledge to research before saying “YES.” Well, I did do a bit of research with this decision. But what’s more is when we’ve sought out something until the final stage and end up having to throw up our hands and give in to our gut. Our gut instinct is always right– that’s God talking. Today as I was listening to the K-LOVE Morning Show, I got the signal to say “NO!”

Right there in that moment, I texted one of my main sources of support back home in the Midwest and told her, “I’m thinking about not accepting this offer after all. It just doesn’t feel right in my gut and it’s made me sicker as each day progresses. I’m literally frightened.” She instantly responded back, “My gut is telling me that too… big time!” It was in this minute that I made the decision to not pursue a direct care giving position.

Reason #1: The company required too many hoops and loops to be jumped through just for a $10/hr position that really should be higher for what it requires.

Reason #2: Training was going to be on the other side of town with not a remotely close bus stop available nearby. I have autism, so I do not drive (while I know I have to re-break that shell very soon, I can’t just flip it on like a light switch and drive again).

Reason #3: My assignment home was going to be on the other opposite side of town in a dark wooded upper hills area prone to dangerous wildlife and my shift was going to be 3pm-11pm. Provided that my amazing landlord has scored a bike for me, it is not enough to comfort my fear of a 30 minute bike ride home at next to midnight– in a city with rising crime and drug problems.

Reason #4: The organization of the organization. After filling out the on-boarding paperwork yesterday, I realized just how inefficient their system is and I couldn’t even be provided a training schedule then and there because it wasn’t organized. (As I was sitting in the lobby I overheard conversation between a trainer and a host home owner that the right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing on a day to day basis and the training is not up to par).  **Very unprofessional by the way to hold such a conversation right in front of me in the lobby chairs directly across from me.**

I honestly think God made me experience this small amount of time to know how exactly in tune he is to my life and how to recognize when he’s trying to tell me something. Being autistic, I probably would not have been a great direct caregiver for one to four people anyway. So moral of the story, the anxiety scouring through my body over the past week has proved that I need to recognize the signs when God is talking to me most. As for a job, there is still another avenue I can travel down and even more so in the long term with the Colorado Developmental Vocational Rehab. Services office which is my goal to get back into the pharmacy world in a hospital setting.

“Agree with God, and be at peace; thereby good things will come to you.” Job 22:21 ESV

God knew that this wasn’t going to work. He was just using this job application process as a test to get me to realize how close he is in my life and how to pick up on when he’s talking to me the most. Who in their right mind would ride a bike at midnight for a $10/hr job?!?! McDonald’s almost pays better than that. So I’ve agreed with God and immediately feel the relief, now let the goodness come in the form of better offers. Have a great day, friends!

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.