“if someone is to love you, they’re going to have to learn to accept your faults. you won’t change because you can’t.”

so i don’t know what i’ve done to make you not speak to me anymore. can you tell me please so i can fix it?

this happens every time. i could cry.

and i sat at the train station tonight with a guy i haven’t seen since primary school. and it was great. no pauses. no stops. just flowing conversation. and no awkwardness. and he missed two trains just to wait with me. so we could finish what we were saying to each other. and we played i have never. and we matched. and i mocked him for his fourteen year old girlfriend. and told him my problems. and he listened. and i made a cremation joke and he said i pulled it off. and he got a train from the other side of the station and he waved. and i know i’ve made a good friend there. and i know i’m going to see him again.

my phone was left on my bed all day. i came home to two missed calls and two texts. and i was not expecting one of them at all. and it actually made me smile that she cared. but i have no credit to reply. i should at midnight. i’ll send an email then too. and i’m trying to word it now but i can’t get it just right. if i keep it simple it might just work.

and i feel sick. my toes have blisters. i got the wrong train home. so i had to walk for an hour. i took my heels off and walked through the mud in just my tights. and i stepped on glass and ripped my tights more and cut my hand on thorns i couldn’t see in the dark.

cut me into pieces. what does one more scratch on the surface mean to you. you cut me so deep and you don’t know. don’t care. don’t see. out of sight, out of mind. close your eyes and shut off your ears. if you can’t see and you don’t hear then it’s not real. it’s not happening. just another fleeting moment. a time you choose to ignore. if you don’t ask then you won’t hear an answer you don’t want to. you won’t have to deal with it. claim ignorance. claim you never knew. unknowing bliss. you never have to step in. you never have to help.

where were you when everything was falling apart?

i’m wearing my bright leggings. i have a purple jumper on and a blue ribbon in my hair. my hair is up and i have two necklaces and the silver bracelet that matches both of yours. i want to start wearing my other bracelets again but i can’t find them and when i do find them, i can’t bring myself to put them on. i feel nothing like i did when i started wearing them. my hair has changed. my clothes are not the same. my feelings are different. i’m not the person i once was.

i’m not whole, i’m not whole, you waste it.

my feet feel like they have bruised from all the walking today. i retraced five years worth of steps today.

i wish you would step in.

Woo yay! I can officially announce that I am back for regular blogging after an extremely long hiatus, depression is funny that way.

My life has been turned upside down, which is pretty obvious from my last post, but I’m pleased to say that things are looking up for Pepper! I’ve gone from suicical to hopeful in two months, that’s quite impressive. Perhaps one is bipolar?

I’ve been discharged from hospital, I see a psychologist every week, I have a social worker that comes to my house to check that I’m still alive and I’ve dropped out of university! The most impressive of that list being that I’ve finally mustered the balls, after hitting rock bottom, to do something for me with a “fuck what everyone else thinks” attitide, and I think it could be the best decision I’ve ever made.

It was too soon for me to be back at university, I went back a week after I’d been discharged from hospital. It was horrible, as soon as I got back I felt like nothing had changed, I could feel myself slipping. It was horrible, I really didn’t want to go back to hospital. The people in there were disturbed, well, most of them. There were a few nice people. I met a lovely suicidal lesbian that was also a herion addict.

So I decided to take action, for once in my sad little life. I did something for me, to make myself feel better, and I do. I’ll be moving back home with my parents at christmas. I’ll still have to pay rent for my student house although I won’t be living here, the joys of trying to break a tenancy agreement, but that’s only a financial repercussion. What is money at the end of the day? Just bits of paper and metal.

For a while now I’ve known that my calling is to become a funeral director, and I’m going to make it happen. I’ve been looking at universities that offer qualifications in mortuary science and death & society. There are only two institutes in the whole of the United Kingdom that offer such courses. I won’t be going there for a long time though. I’d like to gain some professional qualifications first and to do this I would need to secure a job in a funeral home. I’ve approached a local business and I am awaiting their answer with regard to work experience. I just want to help people at the worst time of their lives. I want to be there for them. I want to be woken up at 4am by a griefstricken person and reassure them. I want to be on call 24 hours a day, every day of the year. I want to support people. That’s all I want.

I hope I win the lottery.
The Leafs are hopeless.
I hope she likes me.
That boy is hopeless.
Hope is a dish best served with love.
Hopelessness is a dark, lonely place.
I need hope.
I have no hope.

Hope is, in and of itself, such a simple concept isn’t it? I mean it is all about looking forward. A positive spirit. A light.

Having hope implies a future. It is like a light at the end of a dark tunnel. We use the word hope endlessly. And actually I believe it is a most overused and bastardized word, much like love.

For some reason we, as a society, have a tendency to take words of depth and crush them into absolute meaninglessness, mostly by sheer overuse. Love is the example because we love chocolate and we love teddy bears and we love chicken fried steak and we love money. Teenagers are in ‘love’. Couples think sex is love. The divorce rate shows the truth in that. Teen pregnancy rates show the truth in that.

Hope is a critically important word, like love. There is depth and meaning, emotion. Something ‘more’. A spirit if you are so inclined. And we hope for so many things these days don’t we?

I hope we have McDonalds for dinner. I hope that cop doesn’t pull me over. I hope I can finish this in time. I hope my boss doesn’t get mad.

I hope that I don’t die in Afghanistan. If I do, I hope my family will be able to survive and move on.

I hope that a heart becomes available. Am I selfish to think that? Someone has to die to save me. I hope they don’t suffer.

I hope my legs work. I hope I don’t have to be in a wheelchair and be taken care of.

I hope someone can spare me some change. I haven’t eaten in two days.

I hope my dad doesn’t drink tonight. I’m so tired. I don’t want his ’special’ time any more.

Hurts doesn’t it? Hurts to think we are so shallow and self absorbed. Hurts to forget there are people in this world who are barely hanging on and need real hope.

So what is hope?

Hope is the concept of having a future. Hope is knowing you have a present. And hope implies ‘better’. If you are not in a good place, hope is that things will improve. Whether that means survival, less pain, full belly or something more.

So if you are in a good place, if you are happy, what does hope mean to you? I mean, you could hope that it continues. But really, isn’t that just another selfish statement. So what does the happy person do with hope? This is the crux. This is the great, killer part of hope.

You need to share it. You have to take your joy and send it out into the world. You need to make your hope someone else’s. You need to put your joy on the market for those who need it most. Because you will stagnate without making use of that hope.

Hope is a spirit, no matter what your belief system may be. Hope is the manifestation of joy. So the two groups need each other. The hopeless need the hopeful. There is no hope alone. Hope requires help. Hope demands you make use of it. And the hopeful need the hopeless. Because there is an economy in hope. In order to maintain your stash of hope, you have to invest it. In others. And you will receive it back in spades.

In this society that preaches me above all. In this neighbourhood that requires we look away when the old man next door waves. In this corner of town where we look down on the homeless. In this mall where the snicker at the poor schmuck in the wheelchair. In this school where we tease the girl with the strange bruises. In this park where the teenage boy is drunk and we want him arrested for his anger issues.

Where is their hope?

Here’s a mirror. Do you see it? It’s you. You are their hope. You are their moment of kindness. You are their salvation. You are their light. You are their love.

Yes, I said love. You don’t need a bible to figure out that love is the basis of every gift. Love makes you want to help. If there is no love in your heart, there is no hope. And those hopeless souls who need help, need a hand, need someone will remain.

Hope is the basis of society as is love. It is the ‘we’. It is the ‘us’. We are one. Unfortunately that basic truth is a lie. Right now we are far from one. But it sits upon each of our souls to take back that darkness. To rip open the shroud and show the light.

I am you and you are me and we are all together.

Aren’t we? I live in hope…

Maybe your passion is with the people of Africa, or possibly somewhere else… China, Guatemala, or the streets of Washington D.C., Detroit, or your own city… but wherever your heart is, remember those people first as we progress through this holiday season.  Seek to set aside the cultural drive to spend inordinate amounts of money and time on “great deals” and “black friday doorbusters.” Rather, allow God to expand your worldview… use you to express love to the least… give hope to the hopeless… pray WITH those who are in need.

Take a moment to watch this video, and even if Africa isn’t where your heart is, let the idea of this video inspire you for wherever your heart is.

breath easy, the doctors are about to arrive.

so he was thirty-six minutes late tonight and he didn’t call till he was thirteen minutes late. and i was cold. and it was cold. and the building had locked up. and i went and sat on that wall that we sat on honey. where we ate ice creams. where we watched the sky as it was beautiful. where i felt happy with you. but i cried. and i couldn’t stop. and i still can’t stop and it’s been over an hour. i cried the whole car journey home. i cried when i came through the door. and when i told her nothing was wrong. and i went upstairs. and put this music on. and i want to hear the screams to make me feel better. connection. compassion. and she brought me tea. and that was unexpected. and my phone wouldn’t turn on so i threw it against the wall. and then i had toast. and now i’m crying still.

i feel so stupid. like everything i thought is untrue. and just so stupid. and i feel so stupid for being so upset. and this isn’t making sense and i’m repeating myself but it just won’t sink in. why am i not good enough? what do i do that just doesn’t compete? and i’m beating myself up and i can’t cope. this happens every time. and i can’t see it going right. i said it would work out in the end but it’s not really, is it? not for me. i really can’t cope. i feel so pathetic. i feel so wasted. like my time was wasted. the best of me for so long has been wasted. i feel so useless and all i want is to hurt.

the star was too close to the moon tonight. my socks have rubbed my legs and made a rash. and i planned your present. and i gave you your cake. and i only wore your ladybird. and i sat through russian with you while you coloured in. i put perfume on my lips by mistake and they burned. you caught marshmallows in your mouth. and i forgot for a while. and it was good.

you’re so fucking special, i wish i was special.

you don’t know how much you meant to me. and how much i’m hurt. and how worthless i feel, that you just drop speaking to me. that you just drop me.

i’m only there so that you’re not alone.

i sat up all night to try to stop you. i held you and talked everything through. how many people would do that for you? you know i actually care. and have since the beginning.

i can’t get over this feeling right now. complete loss. of no use. that i never seem to mean anything to people. that they give up after a few months. that i’m not good enough to carry on with. that i’m just thrown away. i’m just a stepping stone till something better comes along. that i’m not the finished product for anyone. i’ve never been good enough at home. i wasn’t good enough there. i’m not good enough here. i’m not the best for her. i’m not the best for them. i’m not the best for him.

my nose is still running but the crying has stopped. composed.

i just sent her an email saying i didn’t hate her but if she wants me to speak to her then she has to make the first step.

and i’m shaking from the cold but i feel like i’m burning up. i felt so hot today with you. like my face was on fire. i felt so embarrassed and upset. i went to art and told him i wasn’t going to work in poster paint. told him i want to continue in ink. he let me. asked if we were the grumpy table today. i told him it would be if he wanted it to be. and he left me alone for the rest of the lesson. she gave me her crisps and she let me use her phone. and i just threw ink on my page. i’m still drawing corn and it’s getting repetitive and boring now but i like doing it. i know i can do it. and people compliment it. and i don’t get many compliments these days. and i don’t want to try something new and fail. i feel like such a god damn failure.

you can still see my name under the white paint. i need to do something to that but i don’t know what.

it wont post my comment. and i’m getting frustrated. and i need to spend a little time with you this week just you and i, A. we’ll do that tomorrow morning while B goes to sort his house out.

you too L. i really want to see you on thursday. if you can and want to, please do. you make things a lot clearer for me. and i’m not sure that you either know to what extent that i really do care about you.

i’m fully composed now. my face tight from the tears.

cried all night till there was nothing more.

i need to fill a roll of film by the morning but i know i wont.

i’m shaking so violently in my legs and i can’t make it stop. i’ve had more fits than normal today. i can’t even keep control in myself. how fucking pathetic is that? what hope do i have in keeping my world still when i can’t keep my body from shaking.

my poison playlist is still playing.

make you believe in god. make you believe in ghosts. make you believe in me.

i’m giving up now. on you and on myself.

i kept your tie, i’d have gone wherever you wanted.

it’s been another hour. it’s on the back of my door.

Have you ever felt fearful?  Do you worry a lot?  Do you feel unsafe in your own home or community?  Do you spend a lot of time thinking about your own safety?  Do you worry about your future?  Do you worry about the swine flu outbreaks?  Do you worry about your health?  Do you dwell on illness and death?  Do you worry about your job?  Do you worry about your safety on the highways?  Are your fears seemingly endless?

Well, did you know that  according to Dr. W.F. Peate in his book “Native Healing : Four Sacred Paths to Health”, the more pessimistic you are the more likely you are to develop heart disease?  He writes that  the Veteran’s Affairs Normative Aging study looked at over 2800 men over the past 46 years  and found that those who were deemed pessimistic developed  heart disease more often than not.  He reports that the results were based their findings on the Minnesota Multiphasic  Personality Inventory.  They found that pessimists had twice as much heart disease as optimistic people.  Think about that…could we be attracting the very thing that kills us because we dwell on all the negatives?

Dr. Peate also asks the question of… “what has the greatest effect on the differences in heart disease between rich and poor neighborhoods:  income, education, occupation, smoking, physical activity, diabetes, blood pressure, type of cholesterol, weight or body mass index?”

He stated that …”the answer, based on research in Britain and across the United States, may surprise us.”   He states that “Something beyond genetics, lifestyle, behavior, income, or health care disparities affect our health.”  Dr. Peate reports that “researchers suggest two areas for intervention…enhancing the social and psychological resources of individual people and improving the quality of neighborhoods and communal life.”

M.G. Marmot, one of the authors of an important study that Peate quotes in his book, states that, “My own view is that the mind is a crucial gateway through which social influences affect physiology to cause disease.  The mind may work through effects on health-related behavior, such as smoking, eating, drinking, physical activity, or risk taking, or it may act through effects on neurendocrine or immune mechanisms.”  Basically there is a good chance that what we think and feel affects our wellbeing.

Our bodies are marvelous machines that we need to understand and take care of.  The social influences in the neighborhoods we live in do affect our health.  Those people who feel that the world is out to get them will likely not fare as well as people who take responsibility for their bad decisions and make attempts at changing their behavior.  Those who blame others feel hopeless to change things while those who accept their part in things will make the changes needed.  It is the glass half full/half empty syndrome.

We recently visited relatives in Florida.  They live in a small 55 and over trailer parks.  What I observed there really made an impact on my thinking.  It seemed that those residents spend an inordinate amount of time talking about, thinking about, and sharing their thoughts on death and dying.  It seemed that who died, who was sick, and how sick they were was the primary theme of conversation on a continuous basis.  It permeated the community.  I hate to say this, but it seemed as if most of those people had gone there to wait to die.  That was their primary focus.

There were a few who organized bingo nights, karaoke, potluck dinners, etc.  However, the majority of the people did not attend.  Their lives consisted of game shows and dwelling on their illnesses.    And, the consequences of this negative focus was prevalent.  People just got sicker and sicker until they died.  Those who tried to create a life seemed hopeless and soon quit trying within the community.  Only those who sought activities outside the community seemed to fare better health wise. My theory is that the collective negative energy produced in the trailer park contributed to the pessimistic attitudes of the residents and thus a negative spiral existed.

Again let me suggest that you go to Youtube.com and type in “Quantum Physics applied to mind power” and listen to the various video clips that appear there.  It is quite the eye opener.  I was thinking that most workshops, symposiums, lectures, etc. are aimed at informing and changing thought.  It is obvious that those involved in these activities realize that good comes from thought changing ideas or they wouldn’t waste their time doing it.  All the self help books on the shelves are based on information and changing thought.  Psychologists and doctors spend a great deal of time trying to change our direction.

So, here we are at a cross roads of sorts.  We can embrace change or we can keep going down the same road.  We can change the way we think and feel or we can keep doing the same things we have always done.  The outcome, however, is becoming much clearer.  We have a choice to make in how we choose to live the rest of our lives.  We can work to change our communities for the better or we can live in fear and worry ourselves to death.  We can improve the lives of those around us, and by doing this, change our own life, or we can sit back and feel helpless and hopeless and continue the negative spiral we have been going down.

The choices are clear and our options sit before us.  What will you do?

Chris

I’m depressed. I don’t see any point in life anymore. I can hardly get out of bed in the morning and yet I still can’t sleep at night. Whenever I do get a few hours sleep my dreams are always strange and unsettling, which leave me worried and anxious. I never feel happy. Nomatter how I try and distract myself with things such as voluntary work, guitar, studying, my friends, I still feel so depressed and most of the time I loathe myself. I loathe everything about me. From the way I look, to all the things I have failed at, to everything I’ve ever done that has hurt someone. I hate the things I think. It’s not normal to want to kill yourself every hour of every day. I know that.

I know that it’s treatable, but in my family theres not one person who’s been totally cured of their mental illness. My father has been on antidepressants for years now, my Granda has suffered from chronic depression and S.A.D. My Grandas sister was bipolar, and a poorly controlled one at that. I’ve had two suicides in my far out family circle and yet no one has ever been cured. I mean, looking at my family history doesnt leave me with much hope. While it’s true that medicine may come up with a proper cure for depression someday, I’m not sure if I’ll be around to see that day.

I know that suicides not the answer. It’s a permanent end to a temporary problem. But my temporary problem seems to have been with me all my life. I attempted suicide for the first time when I was 13/14 I can’t remember my actual age. But as far back as when I was 9 and 10, I might have been playing or having fun, but I would feel sad. For no reason. My clearest memory of that is when I was on a school trip in primary school, I might have been 9 or 10 at the time and we went to a swimming pool/adventure place. I remember me standing in the water, with all my friends, and really feeling sad. And I still don’t know why. It was like a heartbreaking sadness, like one that makes you tear up and want to cry.

Ever since I was a little kid I’ve loved books, I love immersing myself in another world, in another person’s life for a few hours. I try and escape from the drudgeries of this life by reading fantasy novels, daydreaming about things and generally tuning the world out. When I was in primary school I was bullied because of my love of books and the way I never used to be involved in any of the fun or badness the other children were up to. Because I was different in this way, I got picked on for two years, in p4 and p5, where I would have been 7 or 8years old. Even now I’d nearly rather read a good book than go out and get wasted in some nightclub somewhere.

Because of the bullying, I had very few, if any friends for two years. Even now I find it hard to read people. I don’t know when someone is angry at me or just tired. Whether they’re laughing at me or with me. And as I’m so paranoid, I usually end up taking things the wrong way and starting an argument. Nowadays I have a few pretty good friends. I have a large enough social circle-people I’d chat to, but wouldn’t count as friends I could talk to about anything meaningful.

I don’t know. I feel so sad and depressed all the time. It’s really hard to explain to someone who hasn’t experienced it. Somedays I have been doing something like ironing or studying, and I just feel so sore both inside my head, my heart and my chest. And then I can’t stop crying. It feels like I’ve actually slowed down, both mentally and physically. Even my parents have noticed, sayin how I’m so slow doing things etc.

I get really angry too. At myself mostly, which then is deflected into anger towards people around me, mostly my family. It makes me feel guilty that I get so angry with them for stupid things, when I know that it’s really my problem, not theirs. I’m starting to lose hope. I’ve lost any hope of living a happy life. I can’t even remember the last time I was really happy to be honest. I can’t see myself having any sort of a future, in anything. I’m only 19, and yet for the last 9 or 10 years of my life, I have wanted to be dead. My family would be better off without me, my friends wouldn’t really notice me gone anyway, apart from a couple, and I don’t contribute anything to anyone at all anyway.

I’m depressed

Midge

…both sides of an argument have to suck?
Seriously. Read both sides of an issue and you’ll find that both sides are doing the exact same thing they complain of their opponents. It’s really pathetic and very, very frustrating.
Frustrating because it means we’ll never to come to solutions or even live in peace about any issue by agreeing to disagree. Frustrating because it makes it very hard to take anyone seriously. I love to read many opinions, viewpoints and sides, but when everyone is so damn polemic, it can painful. Pathetic becuase it makes it all so hopelessly hopeless.
And I don’t feel this way just when I read about an issue that doesn’t affect me or when I’m reading from someone who disagrees with me. That pain is actually worse when they do agree with me. I feel like they weaken my argument and kinda take it personally.
Faugh.

and i’m in pain. so much pain. my arms are burning. my legs too. my back and my head. everywhere touched. everywhere they put their hands. everywhere is burning. and i can taste blood. and the fork only just missed me.

i’m always in the dark with you. i never know where i stand. i really just want to know. you could make my life so much less confusing. i’m not sure if you’re ignorant to this or just don’t care. things just go up and down with us. i need to know to get a grasp on what i’m doing to myself. what you’re doing to me. you have the most wonderful way of playing with my emotions. bringing them up to a high and sending them to such a low. you can toy with me and not even know it. lose your heart, i’ll lose my mind. we’ll make quite a pair, dazzling all the time. i’ve already lost my mind. can’t you just tell me what’s going on? i rally can’t quite keep myself together with this level of uncertainty flying around my head.

and you’re so sweet and lovely. you’re doing your best to cheer me up and you’re feeling it too. and it’s not fair on you. you deserve so much better. thank you for tonight. thank you for last night. thank you for the nights to come. i really hope you pass your test soon. then you really can come to mine to eat pizza and we can talk about this in person. connected by horrible things and feelings but to a wonderful person. i’m all swirly too.

oh. and just as an afterthought. when you told me about today, i broke down completely.

The five chapters making up the book in the New Testament we call “James” was actually a letter written to “Jewish believers scattered abroad.” (James 1:1)  Many scholars believe that James was the half brother of Jesus, and at some point, came to acknowledge Jesus as the Lord Christ.  James was influential in the early church, and in the fifteenth chapter of the book of Acts, he is noted as helping to make crucial decisions regarding the acceptance of Gentile believers in the early church.  Here in the letter bearing his name, James confronts head-on such issues as pride, controlling the tongue, taking care of the poor, as well as, the dangers of selfish ambition and desire for wealth.

In the first verse of this fourth chapter, James asks, “What is causing the quarrels and fights among you?”  I don’t think he would have made such an interrogation if these early Jewish believers were not quarreling and fighting.  James immediately follows with a second question, “Don’t they (the quarreling and the fighting) come from evil desires at war within you?”  He further explains the source of their contention: “You want what you don’t have, so you scheme and kill to get it.  You are jealous of what others have, but you can’t get it, so you fight and wage war to take it away from them.  Yet you don’t have what you want because you don’t ask God for it.  And even when you ask, you don’t get it because your motives are all wrong—you want only what will give you pleasure.” (James 4:2-3) The sobering truth, he goes on to explain in verses four through six, is that such a condition of the heart mirrors adultery.  For believers who have accepted Christ into their hearts, there is only one Lord…one lover, so to speak.  There is no room for two lovers.  If you and I have accepted the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ into our lives, then His Spirit has come to reside in our hearts.  We have pledged ourselves to Christ and so we belong to Him.  This new relationship is personal and special.  Did you know Christ is jealous for you?  He does not want you to ignore your vows of commitment and return to false lovers.  The reason?  It’s really quite simple.  The world takes life from you.  Christ gives life to you. 

The lures of this world are very enticing.  James spells out how we can be proactive—how we can return to the love of all loves.  First, humble yourself before God.  Second, resist the devil.  Third, come close to God (and He will come close to you.)  Fourth, wash your hands.  Fifth, purify your hearts by leaving the false lovers of this world.  Sixth, allow time to grieve your death to this former life.  And seventh, humble yourself before the Lord.  (See James 4:7-10)  James says that as a result, the Lord Himself will lift you up in honor.  That’s resurrection!  That’s abundant life starting now!  Jesus said, “The thief’s purpose is to steal and kill and destroy.  My purpose is to give them (you) a rich and satisfying life.” (John 10:10)

One of the best ways I know how to pray in God’s will is to pray Scripture.  So in closing, I invite you to pray Proverbs 27:21-22 along with me.  “Lord, as fire tests the purity of silver and gold, may my heart be found pure in your sight.  Lord, help me to give back to you any words of praise and affirmation that come my way.  Oh Lord, help me not to be foolish and cling to the false lovers of this world.  Instead, help me to walk away from the foolish things I was a part of in my former life.  May I not be resistant to the sloughing away of the old, but help me to trust that you know what’s best for me.  Lord, I know that you love me.  I pledge again my love to you.  Amen.”

celebrating our island's heritage

It’s a tradition whose origins are lost, and a very fine piece of our local heritage. This Sunday’s Apple Procession begins at the Church at 10am after the Apple Blessing service. Following the green dancers in their foliage attire, and the drummers, the Procession will then make its way around the island’s farms. Hopefully this year’s drummers will have some sense of rhythm between them. (I shudder, recalling the horrors of trying to march to last year’s attempts).

We will be following the traditional route, but, after numerous requests, the wild apple tree at the end of Silver Street will be our first port of call. While each farmer will be providing buckets of blood for the traditional blessing, those attending are welcome to carry their own as well. As ever, bring gifts to hang in the trees – ribbons are good. Make sure whatever you bring is dead before you try and tie it to anything, or anyone. If the weather holds, it should be an excellent day out. The Crow will be supplying a range of apple themed dishes in the evening to round of the festivities.

my head is throbbing and i’m talking to you and it’s not making it any better. you’re making it worse. i know, i know but i can’t stop. i want to hang on every word. make it last more but you don’t seem to want the same thing. i can feel my head crumpling. my heart sinking. it’s getting worse with you. but it’s not. it’s really not. i work myself up and it’ll be fine. just right now everyone seems better than me. and i’m fighting for everything and i really can’t take it if i have to fight for you too. i will if i have to. but ultimately it’ll be better if i don’t. if i don’t have to. i’m not sure i have the energy. i can barely fight for myself but you just don’t realise how much i value above myself.

i just stopped. no continuation. went and ate. slightly calmer. i hate the taste but calmer. drinking water now to wash it away.

and she’s shouting and in a rush. and he’s home. and he’s brought someone with him. and she doesn’t want him here.

i know what i want done now. any time you’re free. i’m game. i hope you win.

you seem so down tonight. and i have no idea what to do but it feels like we haven’t spoken in a while. same all afternoon. we were together. but it didn’t seem like we connected. i wish we would again. you mean so much to me. it scares me when you’re not okay.

my ladybird is still round my neck.

mmm lord if i didn’t have no obligation
i’d sit and stare all day and night juz like i do now.
when that worktime Time comes, i seyz, aw hell.
gotta make a livin’, lord, i seyz mind as well.
words words words words they mean nothin
wear my hat?

We were just chilling and smoking on the rooftop garden of Hugo’s skyrise apartment complex. Philip was my lover and he was elegant and perched on the railing like a fearless squirrel. I was so in the moment with everyone and the air was brisk and everything that everyone said was just so funny. I can’t remember what we were talking about, but Philip yelled “Wolfe Biltzer!” and started laughing uncontrollably and lost his balance. We saw a quick, naked fear spread across his face an instant before disappearing back-first into what we could not accept. Just like that, he died on the corner of Franklin street and Lover’s Lane.

I cannot stop extending experiences into the potential future. Every moment is colored with frightening possibilities. Instances of ecstasy seem fated to end in death. I am afraid to laugh. One minute, I’m laughing, the next minute…who knows? Anything can happen. I don’t want to go up high and I don’t want to go outside. I sometimes hold my pee for days, afraid that the weight of my body on the toilet might send the floor collapsing from under me.

Saqueeb is my therapist. He is giving me exposure therapy and trying to get me to pee upstairs again. In these moments, I must sit with my discomfort and notice that nothing bad is happening. But it still requires me to take a leap of faith, which I cannot do. So much of life is lived according to assumptions that are grounded on nothing but faith. How do I know that the floor won’t collapse from under me? How do I trust that conclusion in a world where anything can happen? How do I know that I won’t die with my pants around my ankles and a turd half-way out of my ass? Saqueeb puts his finger against my lips and says shhh. I kiss his finger. He slides his finger into my mouth and I suck on it and watch his crotch rise. I hope that his heart isn’t beating too fast. He says, “lets go upstairs”, and I say no, lets stay down here.

Today marked the release of the tenth anniversary edition of the movie Fight Club.  Ten years of talking about Project Mayhem, and trying to figure out how to make soap. Ten years of wanting something smaller and humble in life, instead of bigger and better.

I watched that film with my best friend Dave.  We sat in the basement of his Mom’s house watching this complex message unravel before our very eyes.  Initially I couldn’t get past the fighting.  I was obsessed with the idea of physical confrontation.  I wanted to beat and be beaten.  I wanted to fight anyone that would be brave enough to take on this angry little ball of rage that was me at the age of 18. And I did fight and it was good.

But I didn’t stop watching the movie, and when I found out that there was an accompanying book, I didn’t stop reading the book.  There was something deeper to the message.  Tyler Durden was telling me that there was more to life than buying crap you don’t need, or putting money in my bank account, or even what type of khakis I wore.  It was time to liberate myself from the consumption path.

So I tried.  I know that plenty of people will say that its easy to drop out.  But it really isn’t, and I was slowly learning that fact.  Even today I try and live a meager lifestyle, but I’m tempted by shiny things and the overwhelming marketing that is a major mind fuck twenty-four seven a day.

I’ve fought and fought and I’ve gotten no where.  The world is no less consumption based and people look at me as if I have grown three heads when I tell them they don’t really need to buy shit they don’t need.  I feel weak and helpless, unable to affect the massive societal change that I so ignorantly believed was possible.  How could I though?  I’m fighting against thousands of years of indoctrination, and hell if the son of god couldn’t get these bastards to stop money trading than how the hell am I going to succeed h he so noticeably failed?

What is more sad to think on than that is that I may have wasted these ten years trying to figure out a way to make the world change.  I was busy spinning my wheels when I missed my best friends wedding, I was busy spinning my wheels when I let my first wife sink her bastard fangs in to me, I was busy spinning my wheels day dreaming of a beautiful minimalist utopia while the rest of the world was fighting over resources to make crap or get other people to be the crap makers for cheap.  Blood, tears, and semen are what makes this world go round and I am on a short supply of hope that this will ever change before Jeezus hurries on back in the form of a cleansing flame.

If that is societies fate then so be it.  If this world refuses to listen to the people who want to fix it and make it a nice place for everyone to live than let me be the bold one to step out of the mass of loving people, the ones who love others more than themselves, let me offer the world what they truly deserve, one last “fuck you, you worthless pigs, eat at the trough of your own demise.”  And with that I’ll hand christ a book of matches and wish him luck teaching animals how to be humans, something I could never quite figure out myself.

10 years and nothings changed except me…

I am so tired.
My eyes are melting in my skull.
I think I said, “To each his own” to the fat lady I found in the bushes just now.
That turned out to be me anyway though. I was the chubby lady in the bushes.
I WAS THE CHUBBY LADY IN THE BUSHES.
I cannot stress that enough.

My phone rings. I can’t answer because my Public Enemy ring tone is far to dope to interrupt. A man with an ascot wiggles his shoulders to the music as he lights his cig. He misses, and ends up setting his eyebrows a flame instead. This might be the best thing I’ve ever seen, so I watch him struggle. His entire body is being eaten by the flames at this point. I extend my arm, but then I remember that my sensual body lotion makes me an extreme fire hazard and I continue to watch the man. He is completely engulfed now. My body starts to tingle. I look down and notice that I have an erection.
I should leave at this point, but I don’t. A woman notices the burning gentleman and rushes over to save him. She starts taking off her jacket and beating the man with it. The flames are not subsiding. She notices me watching. She notices my erection. She slowly stops trying to be a hero.
After a few moments of watching me watch her, she starts to remove her clothing and throw it on the flaming man, who is lying lifeless on the curb. Her naked body moves toward mine and my erection grows bigger. I’m not sure how this is even possible. It grows bigger and bigger and sort of reaches for the naked woman. Our bodies start to entwine. The friction, the tension, the heat. We are swallowed by the flames that took the stranger just moments earlier. Our faces melt together and our limbs disintegrate. All that is left of us is what we have in this very moment, my darling.

Well today all hope went out the window. I’ve tried for the past few years to be that voice of reason. I’ve told myself things will get better if you just stick with it. How wrong I was. I try to hold myself to a high standard and I do the same with the kids I teach, but today that was crushed. One piece of paper is all it takes to bring a kid from failing to not failing. The same kid who has done nothing all year. The same kid who told you he/she is going to make a failing grade. The same kid who told you that they weren’t going to do anything. The kid that walks out of your class. The kid that is on the 3rd grade reading level but is in eighth grade science. The same kid who doesn’t do the extra assignment. Yeah, that kid was able to pass because a few pieces of paperwork weren’t filed. Sure, I understand that is policy, but does that one paperwork really make the kid understand the material. Does it say you no longer failed your test? Not at all, it simply says we don’t want you to not be as good as you think you are and your teacher is a bad person for trying to fail you. That’s what it says to me, but when I step out of my teacher role and look at it a little more objectively. It says something more along the lines of we don’t want to have to deal with you anymore so we’re going to pass you along. It says that the education system is no longer in the business of educating kids. It says that teachers no longer have a say in a student’s grade. It says that paperwork is more important than classwork. Well, that’s all I needed to know. What’s sad about it all is that you are now pushing away the teachers who actually do care. You’re now telling them it doesn’t matter how hard you try or how much passion you have, the students can do everything or nothing and they are still going to pass. The question I pose is “Why do we need teachers then?”. Are we just full time babysitters? Are we there just to watch after the kids? I guess so. Learning seems to be far down on the education system’s list so I ask again, “What’s the role of the teacher?” If you know the answer please let me know. If you have some suggestions please leave a comment. As for me, well, I’m not sure anymore. Thanks for your time.

As each day passes– there is a realization that what we don’t know far outweighs what we do know about life.  With stress for many at an unprecedented level, it’s safe to say that many lives and assumptions about life have been shaken to the core.  A simple fact that these times have made me think about often is that there is someone everyday who has decided going forward and living another day is not possible. The military reports record suicides and families are splintering under the harassment and oppression of one bad report after another.

If you haven’t been there a moment or two yourself consider it a gift and a blessing.  For those who have and are at that questioning moment of wondering–what’s the point? and is it worth it?  Let me tell you–It is worth it…every moment.  Everyone turns to something or someone for answers and while most things handle the fringes of our emotions–there is a way to go deeper and have lasting results.  The answer is in your relationship with GOD.  The truth is during times like these the choices are clear–get closer to GOD and make it or choose to push away and flounder with only what you can accomplish in your own strength and will.

If you’re avoiding a spiritual reality–let me be clear–even your strength and capacity for life is a gift from GOD. So now for some GREAT NEWS!!! You don’t have to go it alone in this life and even if you feel like giving up–there is HOPE!

“But the Comforter (Counselor, Helper, Intercessor, Advocate, Strengthener, Standby), the Holy Spirit, Whom the Father will send in My name [in my place, to represent Me and act on My behalf], He will teach you all things.  (John 14:26)

A relationship with Jesus Christ gives us the most powerful and effective help that we could ever know and experience through the person of the Holy Spirit.  It is the Holy Spirit according to the word of God who knows the thoughts of the Father and can show us, guide us, counsel us, help us, advocate for us, strengthen us, and stand by us through every moment–good and bad….every trial–every storm and every breakthrough.  He is available and standing by to help you right now if you will simply call on God’s name in prayer.

He will “teach you all things.”  As long as you’re willing to give up the pride that makes you believe that you know it all or have things handled and have to understand (our code word for “approve”) everything that God chooses to do–then your change is one word away—-JESUS!!!

If all is well in your world–then Pray for someone else…

Blessings,

Randy

Here’s the thing you should understand about my situation: I’m not being picky.  Not at all.  Not even a little.  I just want a job in which I earn money through legal means.  That’s all.

Let’s rewind to August, when I graduated from my university with my M.S. degree in Teaching English.  I knew finding a job as an instructor at a university would be extremely difficult.  I had no illusions about that.  However, what I did not realize is that an M.S. degree would send up red flags to everyone in the retail or customer service industry.  I couldn’t even get hired at a gas station, and my resume does include customer service experience, including quality time with a cash register.

I’m not putting on airs here.  I just want to work and be useful to society.  Hell, I want to be able to pay rent without borrowing from my bank.

I’ve put in my resume in nearly one hundred different locations around this fair city, and I still haven’t had much luck.  I’ve had three job interviews.  That’s right.  Three.  No, I wasn’t exaggerating about sending my resume out to almost one hundred different employers.  I’m working hard at trying to find work, but nothing is happening.

What’s it going to take??

i’m tired of this now. i’m just so tired.

The other day while I was pondering the grace of God and the Doctrines of Grace, I ran across Romans 15:13 as I was reading my Bible on my Mac. I have been pondering and studying the Grace of God for several months now, praying that God opens my heart and pours more understanding of His grace upon me.

13. Now may the God of hope fill you with all ^ajoy and peace in believing, so that you will abound in hope ^bby the power of the Holy Spirit.^[1]

Our total depravity really hit me when I read this passage. God, in His mercy and grace, gives us hope through the Holy Spirit. Even when we seem to have no hope, God gives us hope that leads to peace. God not only gives us salvation, but He fortifies it by giving us the Holy Spirit who gives us hope and peace. I had never really thought about hope from the perspective of our depraved nature and how we are not even capable of keeping hope. Not only does the Holy Spirit pray for us (Romans 8:25-26), He gives us hope when we are hopeless.

People without Christ can hope, but this hope rests solely upon them. The hope of the lost is built upon their works, their faith in their works, and the fruit of their works. This is the type of hope that does not lead to peace in times of trials.

Those of us in Christ are given hope by God; therefore God preserves us completely. I know this is a simple truth, but there is so much in this simple truth that we often overlook. I’m so thankful that God’s grace extends to all areas of our lives.

^bRom 15:19; 1 Cor 2:4; 1 Thess 1:5

^[1]New American Standard Bible : 1995 update. 1995 (Ro 15:13). LaHabra, CA: The Lockman Foundation.

Around the beginning of May 2009, Chip McGee (Life Groups Pastor) asked me if I would consider helping with the sermon-based life group lessons.  Every week for over six months now, I have contributed a small piece of the puzzle that makes up weekly Life Group Lessons here at Christ Church.  What a blessing this has been for me!  I thank Chip (and assistant Anita McGill) for their patience with me, as well as their faithful commitment to planting seeds for life-change through small groups.  The ever-expanding circle of small groups meeting regularly outside of the walls of the church… in homes, the marketplace, the workplace, schools… is a vision that Pastor Charles has had since coming here to Hickory.  Along with his study of John Wesley’s emphasis on small groups meeting together in eighteenth century England, Pastor Charles was inspired to emphasize “doing life together” through his mentor and friend, Dr. Dale Galloway of New Hope Community Church in Portland, Oregon.  Dr. Galloway was in turn inspired by Pastor/Bishop Sundo Kim and impressed by the exponential growth of Kwang Lim Methodist Church in Seoul, Korea.   It is no wonder that being a part of a small group is a core value for each member of Christ Church.  Not only do we grow in God’s grace together, but there is the added blessing of unconditional love and support available in times of need.

Last week we learned that hope is born out of suffering.  I must confess that this subject is so close to home (literally) that I have had a difficult time processing through the lesson.  James (the half-brother of our Lord and influential leader in the early church) pierces my heart with these words: “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.” (James 1:2-3, NIV)  My trials and seasons of testing this past year have been very painful, and often confusing.  I often feel like I am straddling a double-track path.  On one side I see the way I am supposed to be, how I am supposed to react to the trials.  But on the other side (the side I am usually on, if I can be honest) I see the real emotions of anger and bitterness surfacing way too often.  There have been times in the past eleven months that I have felt like a phony… like a failure… like a wimp.  Some days I feel further away from God than I have in over twenty years.  I can’t seem to flip the switch and start believing and saying the right things.  But are they the right things to say if that is not where I am right now?  If hope is born out of suffering, like a new baby is born out of a mother’s hard suffering of labor and delivery, then there has to be a gestation period.  Nine months span the distance between inception and delivery.  During that interim, a healthy mother will accept her condition, take care of herself because there is another person to consider, and she will patiently wait to see the fruit of new life.  Perhaps a parallel can be drawn to seasons of suffering.  For a certain measure of time over which we have no control, we accept where we are, decide to take care of ourselves because there are other persons to consider who are counting on us, and we patiently wait to see the fruit of new life.  If we think we can speed things up, we only fool ourselves and add to the misery.

I often think about the apostle Paul.  What an inspiration he is to me!  He met the Lord in his old identity, Saul of Tarsus.  He was on his way—doing the right thing, he thought—to Damascus with letters from the high priest in his hand giving him authority to raid and persecute new believers in this ancient city.  I’m sure when he mounted his horse that day and set out from Jerusalem, he had no idea who was waiting for him on the road.  “As he neared Damascus on his journey, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him.  He fell to the ground and heard a voice say to him, ‘Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?’” (Acts 9:3-4)  For a period of time, Saul is struck with blindness from the glorious light, but after receiving instruction from the Lord to go to the home of a godly man named Ananias, Saul continues his journey into the city of Damascus.  But now instead of leading the way, the men traveling with him have to lead him.  And instead of storming the first small group he comes to, he humbly enters a home on Straight Street.  Interestingly, while all this is taking place, this man called Ananias is also receiving instruction from the Lord, “Go! This man (Saul) is my chosen instrument to carry my name before the Gentiles and their kings and a before the people of Israel.  I will show him how much he must suffer for my name.” (Acts 9:15-16)  Wow!  Before Saul receives his sight, and certainly before he understands his new mission, the Lord knows how much Saul must suffer for Him.

So many times, eager Christians dream of being famous and influential in kingdom circles.  Starry-eyed followers of Jesus envision themselves leading grand ministries… maybe teaching or preaching on television or the internet.  But what if your calling… my calling… isn’t so glamorous?   What if the Lord called you for this: to suffer for the name of Christ Jesus… and that’s it?   What if my mission, which if accepted would bring great glory to the Father in Heaven, was suffering?   What if our job description looked like this: suffering, suffering, suffering?   Paul’s did.   The apostle Paul (formerly Saul) was alright with this.  He courageously accepted his mission, “I am ready not only to be bound, but also to die…” (See Acts 21:13).  Over and over again, in his letters (most of which were written from a jail cell) he identifies himself like this: “I, Paul, the prisoner of Christ Jesus…”   Each time Paul was chained for his faith, he had a decision to make.  “Am I going to feel sorry for myself?  Or am I going to make the most of this situation?”  Paul not only wrote words of encouragement and instruction to fellow believers across Asia Minor (letters or epistles found in the New Testament), but he tirelessly shared the Good News about Christ with fellow inmates, wardens, kings, governors, rich people, common people, the learned, the unlearned, the religious, the irreligious, the young, the old, men, women, Jews, Gentiles.  Somehow Paul settled in his spirit to effectually and faithfully follow in the footsteps of the One whose feet had been pierced for him.  Paul so identifies with the suffering of his Savior that he pens these words: “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.  The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:20)

Your life’s journey may have led you to a place where the very foundations of your faith are being shaken.  Wherever you find yourself this day, know “that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, and have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)  Please don’t give up.  Christ gives us what we need in order to endure the most difficult times, and that is, Himself.  He gives His Holy Spirit to so fill our lives that Scripture says we will bear fruit. (Galatians 5:22) Fruit is beautiful hanging on the vine.  But it wasn’t created just to look pretty.  To be fully enjoyed, fruit has to ripen.  Then it is picked, cut up or crushed, shared, consumed.  Sometimes it has to age in order to make delicious, vintage wine fit for a King’s banquet table… or valuable enough for an offering.  “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us,” Paul says in Romans 8:18.  “But I will rejoice even if I lose my life, pouring it out like a liquid offering to God, just like your faithful service is an offering to God.  And I want all of you to share that joy.” (Philippians 2:17)