The old brown truck

  Returning the old brown truck to my wife. I have been using it, and fixing it up for the past few months.

  Her grandfather had bought the truck many years ago. After he passed we ended up with the truck. We were going to make payments on it. I failed to make consistent payments. Yet another amends I need to make.

  My wife and I have many memories in the truck. We had a shell on it and went to the drive-in every Tuesday. It transported us to many a camp site. The bench seat allowed my wife to sit next to me while we drove. It has towed all our stuff from California to Spokane. It spent a couple years just hauling garbage for my construction company.

  Its been a great old truck.

  Returning it to my wife is very rough on me. With a divorce somewhere in our future, returning the truck feels like I am having to release all those memories. Just writing this brings tears to my eyes. The sight, smell, and feel of the truck does something to me. I don't want to give it back. I am scared of the closure it seems to be bringing.

  I have spent the last week and a half in Spokane having a vacation. I sort of knew that the truck issue was looming at the end of it. I shared my feeling with my friends and they comforted me...at least they tried.

  I don't know when I will see the old truck again. Perhaps I will need to borrow it for something, or maybe sometime in the future I will be visiting and and can see it then.

  Goodbye for now old truck. Stay reliable for them. I will miss you old friend.

Birthday cards

  My fortieth birthday has come and gone. I don't especially feel different, but I have obseverved a few things about myself I didn't know. Here is one such observation.

  I didn't know how valuable decorating with cards was to making the occasion. Today, when I was doing some clean up, I came across some birthday cards that were given to me. It struck me that I could place them somewhere as a decoration and they could remind me of how much I am loved. I like that!

  At this point in my life I drive truck full time. I don't really have a place I call home and I certainly don't have a place that can be decorated. By realizing that I could put these cards out at my moms house while I visit for a weeks vacation, I stumbled upon a sentimental side I had never know by putting the cards out.

  My understanding of birthday and holiday cards is better now. Some very nice things were written in those cards and I got choked up reading them. (Thank you so much for giving me the cards)

  This Christmas I will decorate my truck. Maybe a string of lights, a small Christmas tree, perhaps a snowflake or two, and some cards :)  Some may call it meditation, I am not sure what I would call it, but I will spend time thinking about the people behind the cards and how much I value them. I will place the cards in a place in my truck where I can be reminded often.

  As a child I tore into cards just hoping for some money. I cast away the card with nary a thought about the person behind the gift. Cherishing the sentiments of those I love is very important to me now.

  For such a simple thing like a card, I feel like I stepped into a new phase of growth today. They are exceptionally beautiful cards and I am now a sentimental old man!

Oh my

One more ad.....just for fun!

Smokie and The Bandit

  The long sleek Firebird whirled down the road, the sun radiating off its inky black paint. The driver slides the car to a stop just in time to pick up a runaway bride still in her wedding dress. A police chase ensues that would end up making cinematic history. Smokie and The Bandit!

  Not sure when I first saw the movie. It was made in 1977 but was being broadcast on TV for me to see in the late 80s sometime. I am guessing I would have been around 12 when I saw it.

  The film hit all the tropes a blossoming young dude needed. It had a spectacular car, a smoking hot babe, an indestructible semi-truck, a larger than life protagonist hunk, and a smarmy sheriff.

  Let's get back to that scene with the runaway bride. She came along at the perfect time for me. Pretty sure she was the first woman on film who caught my imagination. She was pretty, she had a tremendous wit, she seemed innocent, and she loved The Bandit. I was set up for sure!

  The Bandit nicknamed her The Frog. He gave her that name because she was always bouncing around and he wanted to jump her. I didn't even know what that meant the first time I saw it! Adults don't even play leap frog!

  There was also this great scene where The Bandit was smoking a cigarette and The Frog decided to try one. She sputtered and gagged prompting him to suggest that she quit. Her quote was, "Why quit now, when I am just starting to enjoy it so?" I have tried that quote on many people, haven't found any who know the reference. Smoking humor is the new gallows humor.

  That movie really formed an idea in my head of what women wanted. So I set out to apply the knowledge that I had learned. I was moderately successful. The renegade loner who was simply misunderstood. Or so I thought. Turns out when you are a misfit you only attract misfits!

  Part two of the movie starts out having The Bandit holed up in his house apparently drinking himself to death. Never really cared for that movie. I think I am going to go watch them both again. Seems to me that I might view them differently now :)

 

Weight loss

I just thought these ads were so funny!

40

  Turning 40 in a few days. Doesn't seem possible. I know, I know, its kind of cliche to say that, but it really is surprising me. I was childish for most of my life. I think I was supposed to be child-like.

  I didn't really start living until just over three years ago. Until that point I had many distractions that could keep me from being me. Alcohol, drugs, sex...yes please! Oh no wait, those were the things that I did have, and life became miserable.

  Thru a series of horrible decisions I made, life as I knew it radically changed for me on July 6th of 2010. In some ways that day was my true birthday. So, I am only 3! And I act like it!

  There is some wreckage that hasn't been fixed and it breaks my heart. I am uncomfortable with the idea that I may not be able to properly make amends to some people. I understand why I can't, but I wish I could.

  I am planning a pizza and a movie party for me and my friends. I want to celebrate, laugh, cry, and cut loose with my buds. They are the best friends a guy could have.

  I sometimes wonder just how old 40 actually is. Will the coming decades reveal a redeemed life that is surrounded by loved ones? Will I be defined by my wreckage?

  I haven't a clue!

  Past regrets and future tripping are really bad for me. I am free to live in today. Sure I make plans for the tomorrows, but I really only have today. So live it up!

Drive thru dining

  Last night I pulled into McDonalds for two cheeseburgers and a chocolate shake. The drive thru lane was packed. I had to stop a little back from the car in front of me to let traffic thru the parking lot. When the drive thru started rolling again I needed to wait for one more car to pass, then I could make my turn in.

  That's when it happened. A dude swung around me and got in front of me in the drive thru. The minivan behind him looked like they might do the same. I honked my horn in disgust. I squeezed in behind the perpetrator and blocked traffic. But I wasn't letting nobody else cut in line!

  I surveyed the guys suburban looking for evidence that would bother me even more. Utah plates, damn Mormons. Loud exhaust, stupid hillbilly. Various dents, aggressive driver.

  I noticed one of those family cartoon stickers in the rear window. You know the kind with a mom and dad smiling with all the kids next to them, maybe a dog or cat for good measure. The mom cartoon was missing and the rest were all boys (5 of them)! She probably left the bastard due to his erratic driving. He probably likes cutting people off and she is tired of being embarrassed. Those punk boys probably asked their dad to drive crazy.

  Oh man I was having fun. Everything about this guy and his car was cliche. I sat fuming. Honestly, I was getting worked up and was enjoying it.

  I thought about rolling down the window and saying some choice words. Maybe actually getting out and saying something would be better?  Oh how great to make his sons feel like dirt about daddy!

  They get to the window and all they got was ice cream. Ice cream! Damn right I scream! At least the raging guy inside me wants to. But I sit silent like a fool.

  I think about catching up with him on the freeway. Oh how sweet to cut him off. That would show him.

  After what seemed like an eternity he has gotten their ice cream and they pull away never to be seen by me again. I try calming down so I can get my food without ruining the day of the cashier. I pull up and go to pay. I have exact bills and change, I'm a helluva guy.

  The dude had purchased my food!

  Son of a! What kind of! Damn, damn, damn.

  I was really enjoying being worked up. I had a healthy rage going and I wasn't ready for it to end. I was going to eat disgust cheeseburgers and have a rage shake. Now what do I do? This jerk really hacked me off big this time. I don't like eating humble pie and I never order it!

  So that's what happened at the drive thru. The cashier told me that the guy was sorry for cutting me off. It was an honest mistake.

  There is a lesson in this for me. But I am way to cynical to write it down.

Chuck Smith

  Today is a sad day. I am mourning the loss of Chuck Smith. His ministry and life were very instrumental in my life. When he broke Christian tradition and started ministering to hippies, he ultimately broke thru to the very people who would help me in my recovery.

  Chuck understood the powerful love and grace of Jesus. He leaves behind quite a legacy. Many people have learned about Jesus thru him.

  Now let me personalize this blog.

  One of my earliest childhood memories was of Calvary Chapel in Costa Mesa. The Children of The Day were performing and I was back stage. The place was so large and there was quite a crowd. I remember being overwhelmed with the size of the place. I don't think I had ever seen anything so big with so many people.

  The Children of The Day group were friends of my parents. I spent many days playing with Marsha's son and daughter. I didn't know it at the time, but my future would rely heavily upon the concept Marsha sung about in her song "Come to the water". I did come Marsha. And I drank up Jesus to the dregs. Thank you for such a beautiful song about such a wonderful God.

  Greg Laurie toured with Children of The Day for a while. I actually don't remember this happening, but Greg would go on to preach and teach to quite large crowds. Greg's messages could be found thru podcasts and on YouTube. When my world fell apart under the heavy weight of my wretched sin, Greg's messages carried me back to the cross. He taught me that I was acceptable and loved. He taught me to stand strong in the truth of the bible. Thanks Greg.

  What does all this have to do with Chuck Smith?

  As I wrote about earlier, Chuck was the one with the vision. God used him to draw people to Christ, the same people who would bring the gospel to me. Countless times I have been reminded just how fortunate my life is and how Chuck helped lay the foundation.

  I never wrote Chuck and told him these things. I am reminded today just how much I need to tell people how much I love them. I am sad at his going home. I am also sad I never wrote him. I need to remember this lesson.

  Thank you Chuck. I love you and am exceedingly blessed because of you. Prepare yourself for a big ole bear hug from me.

Behave!

  I feel kind of bad about my last post. I was pretty harsh on my dad. Sorry Pops. Let me set out a couple more things and lighten the mood.

  I want to dive further into the issue of misbehavior. (Way to lighten it up right away!)

  What to do with misbehaving kids has plagued humanity since the beginning. We see plenty of examples of every philosophy working. Some say just simply love/accept and the kid comes out just fine (and sometimes they do). Others say discipline is needed to promote good behavior.

  I am not advocating either. I think both are true. What I want to expose is motive. Often what motivates discipline or gentleness is annoyance. To the disciplinarian, bad behavior is annoying and must be punished. To the more pascifist, punishment seems mean (ie annoying) and should be avoided.

  So, my dad did what he could do with what he was taught. And I think he tried to do it with love. 

  The point I am struggling to drive across is the desperate need for a child to never fear being left or forsaken. Those fears plagued me. I could pretend to do well, but then I would stumble again. My stumbling always drove a wedge between my dad and I.

  Here is one practical idea that may have helped. Let's paint a simple picture.

  I wanted to do things my way and was extremely lazy. Dad figured that I shouldn't be allowed to freeload and invited me to leave home. This seems very logical to me.

  However, why not meet up once in a while and go out for coffee? That cheeseburger and chocolate shake sounds good. How about a movie? Maybe a hike somewhere?

  My performance as a son should not affect our relationship. The motivation behind spending time together is not about rewards, its about love. Its simply about spending time together and not dwelling on the gunk.

  With all that being said, dad and I are forging a new relationship. We routinely get together for breakfast and visit. We have lively debates about all sorts of things. Honestly, it hardly matters what we talk about, we are slowly becoming close.

  I have a dear friend in Wisconsin whom we will call John. John will like that very much seeing as that is his name. (Dead pan humor....love it!). John and his son are also working out their relationship. His son is very close to my age. When I talk about my past relationship with my dad I can hear the heartache in John. He understands what I am saying, but he also understands my dad. There is so much pain.

  John and I allow each other to share our stories without the need to edit or censor. By giving each other that liberty we are helping heal each other. Its a strange process and I never would have imagined such a powerful friendship.

  There is no way of doing anything perfectly. My buddy John wants to do everything just right, my dad never wants to make mistakes, I never want to fail....but we all will mess it up. Will we still go hangout? Or will our failures dictate our relationship?

Gone fishing

  Growing up I believed there was nothing I could do to help my dad love me more. Regardless of how I behaved, good or bad, I never once thought my dads love for me would change. The problem is, I didn't know my dad loved me at all. Whether I behaved or not didn't seem to matter.

  My dad grew up in a dark household where love wasn't on the table. My dad desperately wanted things to be different for my sister and I. But the dye had been cast, kids who behave well have daddies approval.

  Early on I got stuck in performance mode. Doing good didn't cause wonderful things to happen between my dad and I, it just caused him to yell......a little less. He had a terrific set of pipes. He was a yelling ninja!

  I am not trying to paint a complete scenario of utter horror. There were things my dad would do that were cool. But often those things were done with an expectation that I would somehow behave better now. "Here son, enjoy this motorbike." "Didn't do well in school, remind me why I would bother buying you gas for the motorbike."

  The motorcycle was my favorite thing. Such freedom and fun. I had to steal gas from his truck in order to ride.

  He had this quirky thing where every couple of months he would offer me a "clean slate". I never knew what the hell a slate was or why it needed cleaning. I figured I was being offered a new beginning and we could just forget the junk I had done. Then a few days later I would repeat a prior failure only to have those past failures brought up again. You can't wipe smooth engraved marble.

  My failures were always before me. Behind me. To the side. Below, above....damn. I really had no clue how to escape.

  There was a rewards system that was tried. I learned quickly that I didn't get any better with rewards. I didn't have the kind of patience to get the rewards or the rewards were stupid.

  We tried punishment. Dad would blow up then sulk, punishments never had any rhyme or reason. I could count on a huge speech about choices and how we lose opportunities by making wrong choices. If I chose well I could become anything, but every poor choice means one less thing I could be.

  Once my step-mom told me I was killing my dad. He had terrible indigestion and coughed up colorful things in the morning. When he quit smoking that went away. I still smoke......I blame her ;)

  Ok Josh, why bring this up now?

  Good question!

  I just had breakfast with my dad who tried to convince me that how I behave directly affects my relationship to God. If I behave well God draws me in a little closer. Bad behavior pushes God away.

  Fuck off dad. Fuck you and your earning favor trip. If you want me to be good in order to love me......whatever. But to say that I can earn favor with God is insane. He is so utterly pure and I am so fatally flawed. I can't do it.

  I believe in absolute grace today. I believe God has done everything necessary for me to have a right relationship with him. By offering himself on the cross I have nothing else I can offer.

  OK, enough preaching. Who begins preaching with a curse word anyways?!!!

  I just want to go fishing. Let's go get a cheeseburger and a chocolate shake. I want to be free from performance. Worrying about performance is narcissistic.

  The truth is, I do behave better today. I am a more honorable son. You can rely on me to keep my word. But those things are what happened because I was loved without condition. I am not responsible for those things happening. Those things happened inspite of myself.

  God is not my boss. I am not his employee. How I perform my work has no correlation to how he regards me. He paid a huge ransom to call me his son. Today I am free to fail!

  And fail I do! I probably failed God a dozen times just writing this blog, more if you count my thoughts!

  Martin Luther said that we should sin boldly so we would understand grace. Hey Martin, I get it!

  "When I rightly deserved my dad’s disappointment, he assured me of his delight." - Tullian Tchividjian

......please read my next posting......
 
 

 

Being needed

  Last week Grandma Margie went into the hospital for pneumonia. She is old, frail, and onry. She has the spirit and spunk of a two year old, but her body and mind can't keep pace.

  On Sunday her heart started beating erratic. One side was dubbing and the other wasn't lubbing. The lub side was basically quivering. No lub-dub. Death seemed to be knocking on her door.

  They put a cocktail of drugs in her to stabilize her heartbeat and dissolve the clot that was found on her lung. She was tired from the morphine and seemed ready to check out. She has an order to not resuscitate her, so things were getting tense.

  But let me rewind a bit.

  On Sunday I was on my way back into town and was going to spend the afternoon helping a friend move and then stop by the hospital to say hi to Gram. My mom called me and said, "Grandma is dying". Then my mom broke into tears and said, "I need you here". I told her that it would be another hour before I got there, but I would hurry.

  That's when time slowed down and reality warped on me.

  You see, I'm not that guy. Unreliable, insensitive, uncaring, hardass, all around jerk face......that's who I am. I am not the guy you call in a time of crisis. I cried out to God, "Please help me be of comfort to Grandma and Mom. I don't know what I am doing. I am gonna walk into that hospital, please just show me what I can do".

  That may not be the exact wording I used. Probably more of a panicked "oh crap" kinda prayer was offered. But those were my thoughts.

  Grandma took a few hours to start improving, but she did improve! Last night she even moved into a place that has the facilities to help her. I was able to be there for my mom and grandma.

  I am not used to being relied upon. I hurt people. Don't pass that last sentence up. I hurt people......deeply. I am so amazed that my life has brought me to a place of usefulness. Gratitude is an inadequate word to describe the feeling.

  I really am available to help. I truly can express my own fears and frustrations. I can even be counted on to say inappropriate jokes at all the wrong times! I am Josh, and I think I am comfortable with that.

  It was a great blessing to be called upon to help.

 

 

Helping out

  Had a dude ask me for money yesterday. At first I thought it would be the standard story. I see a fair amount of homeless people and this one seemed no different.
 
  He started by offering to shine up the wheels on my truck (if I had the stuff to do it). He mentioned washing the windows. He asked if there was anything he could do to earn a couple bucks.

  I smiled and didn't say anything. What could I say? Hey dude, I see people like you once or twice a week....go to a shelter. I am not that blunt.

  The guy proceeded to tell me his story. He was an armed robber who just got out of prison. He was left in Tacoma with no money and a waiting list to get in the shelter. He pulled out his wallet and showed me his offender identification.

  Whoa! Wait now!! I was reluctant to help this dude to begin with, now he is a ex-con who was busted for armed robbery! Oh my.

  Instantly I got the thought, "Who would make THAT their story when asking for help?" I could think of many stories to tell, but a felon with a violent past, that's complete nutso!

  My heart melted. I am also guilty of many regrettable things. I also want people to look beyond the past and love me into the future. I desire mercy, so did he.

  In a moment of compassion I saw him as a fellow human in need. He may have needed a beer, some weed, a pack of smokes, or even something to eat. So I helped him. I reached in my wallet and gave him a twenty. It blew his mind.

  I don't tell this in order to try and elevate my feelings about myself. I am a cynical and doubting dude. I have a tough exterior and I like that. But I also like mercy. I like giving others a much needed break.

  On the spiritual side of things.....last night, at my second place of delivery, I found a twenty dollar bill on the ground. I am a spiritual giant!

 

Box of memories

  Recently I asked my wife to set aside things for me that have memories attached to them. She and I are knocking on the door of divorce and I would like to retain those items. What do I want them for?

  I get daily emails from Divorce Care and I got one a couple of days ago that really nailed this subject. It spoke of looking memories squarely in the eye and grieving them. Let the full power of pain wash over you. Hell no!!!! Right?! That's like going to a doctor for a broken leg and having them kick you in the avocados!

  OK, I get it. I must embrace the loss. I must process and not bury. I gotta go to Big 5 and buy a cup.

  Right now I picture having a box full of memories; Memories of our marriage, memories of birthdays and anniversaries, vacations.....you get the idea. I dread looking into that box. How can I do that and not weep? Maybe that's the point. When I am healed I can. It seems so impossible.

  What will happen when I process the pain and I can look back fondly at those memories without being sad?

  Impossible

Fog!

  Encountered the first foggy night of the fall season last night. I know it's not technically fall yet, but tell that to the fog!

  The fog is almost mesmerizing as I drive. I particularly enjoy the fog that is just above the roadway so you kind of do scudding in reverse. The fog softens the oncoming headlights and gives everything a nice halo. When you step out of the truck the fog produces an eerie quite. Its awesome!

  I suppose most people find the fall/winter time treacherous on the roadways. I am not one of those. I really enjoy the fog, ice, and snow. It is of little concern to me that I hurdle down the road riding 40 tons thru inclimate weather. In fact, I prefer it.

  See, the summertime is wonderful in many ways, but the wintertime has its own attractions. The fall and Christmas decorations are beautiful, the roads are less crowded (except on holiday weekends), no bugs, and I get to dress in ways that hide my fat......yeah I know.

  Someday soon I will slide off the road while driving in ice and fog, dying in a massive fireball, and somebody will read this post thinking I am a fool for liking the bad weather. This blog is morbidly prophetic if that did happen. Read this at my wake OK?

   If I did die in a fireball I bet there would be a discount on cremation! 50% off for mostly charred bodies! Now that's a deal. I mean, who would pay full price to burn up a dude that is mostly burned up? Is there a sliding scale for these things? I gotta Google that.

  Fog, then cremation savings, now that's writing!

Relaxation

  How do I relax? Can I relax without being lazy? Does God approve of relaxation? How did Jesus relax? Can I relax around uptight people?

  The first question (how do I relax?) has changed plenty over the years. Catching frogs, tormenting my sister, repainting matchbox cars, experimenting with fire, were all fun things I did as a kid, but I don't think of them as relaxation. Relaxation means taking time from being busy accomplishing things to actively pursuing enjoyment. This definition doesn't quite work entirely, but it provides the foundation for what I now consider relaxation. Today I relax in many ways, the most enjoyable is dispensing grace. Loving on people is by far the most enjoyable thing in my life.

  That brings up the point of laziness. Often times in my life relaxation and laziness were synonymous. Discovering active relaxation has been eye opening to me. The effort involved with relaxation no longer seems a burden, rather it makes the relaxation much more enjoyable. Laziness robbed from me years of true friendship. Laziness cost me creativity. Laziness contributed to the failure of my marriage.

  God approves of relaxation. Ultimately this is the truth of the Gospel, relax dude, you can't do it but God will. Relax in the completeness that Christ bought for you. A person who is perfect has nothing to fret about, and Christ has made you perfect! Relax! Its all good.

  How did Jesus relax? I see a couple ways. He hung out and laughed with the worst of sinners. He rejoiced when someone came to him broken. He loved the unlovable. In one verse we see John leaning up against his chest, try seeing a modern Christian tough guy do that! John relaxed around the relaxed Christ.

  My last question of relaxing around uptight people is the hardest. They take themselves way too seriously. Always seeking approval and never discovering that God approved them a long time ago.

  I try not to worry about it anymore. Buddhism teaches that we should let go of things to be free, Christianity teaches that even if we hold on to things God still finds us pleasing. Who cares about qualifying if the only qualification is to be unqualified?

  Enjoy yourself! The toughest battle I often face is just enjoying life. I don't have to fix anything to please my Creator. Relax in the completeness of Christ.

  I just laid out a beautiful teaching about the completeness in Christ and how that gives us freedom to relax. That means I have it all figured out! Sure, yeah right. I am a compulsive worrier and a habitual over thinker. I can't relax when there is so much that needs fixing. Oh sure, sometimes I taste freedom and I lean on Christ's chest, but other times I am up frantically trying to prepare a meal while my lazy brothers are relaxing with Christ.

  Neurotic doesn't begin to describe how messed up I am. When I finish a good round of relaxing I feel bad. Not all the time, but more than you do. I bet you don't think so. I bet you think you worry more than anybody. Neurotic.

  I can't even relax about this blog about relaxing! I gotta stop this insanity. I need some coffee and a cigarette. I will try and smoke it as lazily as possible. I'm done :)

The Bible and a bottle

  I am learning to walk, not in the literal stumbling about as a toddler sense, but in the "I am a man and here is what I think and feel sense". This is not natural to me.

  I grew up in a house where differing opinions or emotions was discouraged. My mother and father had grown up in abusive homes and hadn't yet processed their own gunk before starting a family. So I was left an emotional cripple. Just like them, I pretended to have it all together. I was quite an actor.

  My emotional retardation carried over into the family my wife and I had created. Opportunities for my wife or children to express themselves just didn't happen. I didn't know what to do with the information. I discouraged the openness that I now seek.

  Drowning my feelings worked. Becoming a know-it-all zealot Christian also worked. Hiding behind a Bible and a bottle was simply a way of life. I became a super smarty-pants about religion and was quite adept at drinking.

  As the years rolled on my addiction to alcohol took very dark turns. Bolstered by the booze, I tore my family apart. My church rejected me. Many in the church rejected my wife for being with me. I became a spiritual leper for whom some believed there was no healing.

  I got sober at the beginning of July 2010. My sobriety came on the heels of a terrible bender. I had purchased some extra expensive scotch in hopes that I could savor, rather than guzzle, the whiskey. Instead I just spent more on getting stupid.

  I threw up a white flag to God soon after. Surrender wasn't conditional. I no longer had any bargaining tools. For the first time in my life I saw the consequences of sin.

  A month before I hit the wall, I was worried my wife would demand that I quit. As that was impossible for me to do, I was prepared to leave her, knowing that I could just drink even more to bury the pain.

  When my wife told me exactly how I had hurt my family I knew instantly that drinking was no longer an option. Drinking and hurting only myself seemed all well and good, but the pain I brought her and my daughters.......damn.

  Sobriety is scary. When I feel feelings I don't like, the only way of escape is by reaching out to my friends. I don't like reaching out! It is sometimes difficult to muster up the gumption to share the gunk. I often think that relief can never be had. But my friends are faithful. They hear me out and point me to the cross.

  As far as the Bible is concerned, I understand what redemption means today. Church was a place where good people taught other people how to be good. Today I understand that the church is filled with screwed up people being loved by a caring God. The people who know they are screwed up serve God the best.

  I like to tell my friends that God loves sinners. And if he loves sinners then he loves me more than them. I out-sin them all!

  The trick I found is to not celebrate my brokenness, rather I celebrate a God who sacrificed himself to pay for my brokenness. I celebrate those friends whom God has sent into my life. 

  My days of booze therapy are over. If I go back I will die. My body can't keep up with how much my mind would need. 

  So I instead spend my time around guys who are genuine. Am I as screwed up today as I was when I got sober? Oh yes! But in a much more healthy way. Until I get put to bed with a shovel, I will always be screwed up. My God likes me screwed up. Its when I think I am doing really good, that's when I stumble.

  God gave me a big ol' hug back in July of 2010. It felt great to truly be home. He has been very merciful and gracious to me. The love and comfort he gives me didn't come cheap. He took every sin of mine, even those really gross ones, and placed them on Jesus. His son was ridiculed, abused, and killed because of what I did. And I love him for it!

 

Elephant seals

  Guess I am worried about my size, specifically my weight. I am a tall dude (6'4") but I am also horizontally gifted. OK, fat! Tubby tubalotamous.
 
  For years my weight has been slowly climbing. Good food, heavy drinking, good food, getting sober, good food, lack of exercise, good food, and driving a truck have all contributed to my present portly state. Did I mention good food?

  Its a classic thing we see all across america. A non-active lifestyle ties together with good food. Its a recipe for largess.

   By now you granola crunchers are thinking "if you ate 'good food' you wouldn't be so big". Yeah, and if I ate only tree bark I would lose it all pretty quick. Say no to the tree bark diet.

  How do you identify a dogwood tree? By its bark.

  Nope, no granola crunching, bunny food diet will work for this dude. I just can't hack it. So today I embark on fatkins again. Steaks, butter, bacon, sausage, eggs.......oh yeah baby!

  Why the title of elephant seals?

  Those dudes have it so good. The most fat bull among them gets the babes. The cows are really cute and totally go for the big guys. Not fair! With elephant seals it appears that big and ugly looks good on a guy. When you look at them you always wonder just how the girl is so pretty and the guy is so horrendous yet they match up! I bet he has a great personality....yeah that's it!

  Its time for me to lose the weight. I let myself get away with eating wrong while I got sober, but three years is probably too much. My support group will help me be accountable. It is either lose the weight or work on my elephant seal calls. I already got the belly waddle down!

Now I lay me down to sleep

  I have begun to notice another disturbing pattern in my life. If I read or think about painful things before I go to bed, I really struggle getting to sleep.

  Now I started doing the emotional work in the mornings. Thinking about life's issues and praying for them at night messes me up, but the mornings seem to work out much better.

  I heard about those bible verses that say to seek God in the morning. I never knew why that would ever matter. Guess I figured out another reason why :)

Softness

  Been reading some of my old postings. I am not a very soft man. Some were preachy and others were harsh. I feel like I have gained a softness that I didn't have before. I still have a long ways to go.

The little sail boat

  When I was a young dude, perhaps 10ish, we made these little sail boats. By little, I mean like just over a foot long. They were the coolest thing! I think we made them to compete in a sailing race. Maybe we were all going to go to the lake and let them go and see whose was fastest.

  I don't remember racing them. Actually I don't remember building them either. I wonder if the boat I played with was my sisters? Damn. I hope not...eww

  Well anyways, we lived on a small lake and I would take it out there to play with it. There was an overflow part to the lake that wasn't nearly as big as the lake and that's where my adventures with the boat took place.

  I would tie a string to the boat to be able to get it back or steer it. Sure the lake was small and I could swim, but the string made me feel safe. I didn't want to lose the boat. Somehow I figured on keeping it and cherishing it forever.

  So, I would launch the boat and try to steer it just right with the string. My friends and I would take turns with it and complain that the others weren't doing it right. Nobody ever did it right, but when you watched someone else play with it you just knew you could do it better!

  I spent hours with that boat. I would get almost transfixed at the way the wind pushed her over and made her scoot thru the water.

  We eventually got good enough to tie two strings to it and tack into the wind. This was a dangerous maneuver and capsizing was always an option. The waves would pummel the little boat as the howling winds would toss her about. Proportionally, the little boat went thru hurricanes with me at the helm...er string.

  I always figured on saving that little boat. Some artifact of my youth. Some other relics have survived but sadly the boat didn't. 

  In thinking back this story I am struck wondering why I never let the boat just sail on the lake. Why confine it to the small overflow? If I was worried about it being stuck on the island that wasn't a big concern. Surely we could have fashioned up something to go to the island. How much fun would that have been!

  I wish I had a memory of letting the boat go. The lake wasn't all that big but I would have enjoyed watching it sail freely. My fear of loss prevented me from capturing a truly momentous occasion.

  I'm not sure if the other kids held their boats in such high regards as I did mine. But I am also not sure if I enjoyed mine as much as I could have. I wonder if they just let theirs go?

  Go little boat go!

Broken hearted

Friends

  I am so grateful for the friends in my life. They have been a great source of strength to this weary soul. As I face trauma and heartbreak they provide a sounding board for me to express my hurt.

  You know, I'm not that good at sharing how I am doing with my friends. Heck, I'm not that good at hearing how you are doing. When we are doing well its easy. But when hard times come the difficulty begins. Sometimes I pretend I am doing well just so my friends will want to talk to me.

  For instance, I will be sharing a bunch about my pain as i go thru this divorce. If I was listening to me I wouldn't exactly know what to say. I truly feel others pain, but what do you say? I like hearing others share their pain. I want to comfort them. But ameliorating pain isn't everything. Sometimes we can only stand next to them and offer hugs and love.

  I don't want my friends to attack my soon to be ex. She is the victim of marrying a broken man. Sure she could join me in therapy and work things out, but she doesn't want to. Does that make her an enemy? When my feelings are running high, the answer is yes! She is an enemy and I hate what she is doing. Then my leveler head comes back and I want to offer her compassion. Compassion that I didn't give her while married. A compassion that I can only give by the grace of Jesus. But sometimes I don't wanna.

  I ask my friends to be patient with me. I will be mean, I will be obnoxious, I will be a pain, I will be a butthole. But I want to be so much more. More nice....not more jerky!

Just get it out! :)

  Just re-read my last post. I am a morbid dude! I just want to make it abundantly clear, I am going to attempt to write and dialog of my thoughts and emotions as my divorce unfolds. I do no want to hold back, but I also don't want to improperly attack my wife. Hmmm, ex-wife.
 
  While I am hurt and feel rejected, I also understand her side. Years of living with an addict took its toll. I will never get into the specifics in a public forum, but satisfy yourself by knowing that I am a huge jerk who treated his wife very poorly.

  Knowing how much of a jerk face I was doesn't limit my pain of being rejected. God has moved greatly in my my life and I am a restored son of the Sovereign Lord. My life doesn't look like it did back then. So I get caught up in thinking that the man I am today is the man my wife is rejecting. Its not! She is rejecting a low down slimeball that treated her badly! I am not that dude any more.

  If you ever meet that creep, kick his ass for me. He hurt far too many people.

 

A new start

  Looks like for the next couple of months I will be struggling my way thru divorce. My life for the last couple of years has had this looming over it. I have held a torch for my wife and hoped that she could somehow forgive me and we could reconcile. That isn't going to happen.

  I find myself wanting to listen to sad songs and read sad stories. I want to yell and fight. I feel invisible and want to be heard. I can no longer numb out with addiction so I swing the other way and want to feel miserable.

  My thoughts are disjointed and I break down easily. I try and put on a tough face but the facade only lasts so long.

  I worry that my friends will grow weary of hearing me discuss the divorce. I'm not sure they can handle me process my emotions and thoughts as I go thru the next couple of months.

  I have watched a couple people I love go thru divorces. It was brutal and painful to watch. Both of them seem to be doing quite well today.

  I don't really think that its possible for me to get past this. I feel so wounded. My best friend has rejected me.
 

Testimonies

  Recently I read a testimony about someone being saved at the young age of five years old. That is such a kind gift from God. To be able to recognise the need for forgiveness, and accept it at such a young age, is truly remarkable.

  In my own life this was not the case. I grew up in a family of Christians who were highly dysfunctional (whose family isn't, right!). My parents both had tragic upbringings. They brought their painful past into the new family.

  The point of this particular blog is to expose the self-righteousness that comes with hearing some peoples testimonials.

  Picture this:

A man stands up in church and gives a heart wrenching story. He was abused as a child. He sought comfort with loose women and wild living. This fast life ran him down a road that ended with him killing a man and going to prison.

  While in prison he found God. He studied hard and got a degree in theology. After leaving prison he worked as a janitor for the church whose pastor visited him in prison.

  After serving as a janitor for a few years he was asked to lead up the youth ministry. A few years later he became lead pastor of his own church. And now, after all these years, he is blessed with the fastest growing church in the state!

  That is an awesome transformation and testimony!! I heard that testimony over a year ago and it blew my mind! God has the power to transform even the most vile man!

  Did you see what happened there? That last statement had a peculiar twist in it. It assumes that the sins that guy had done were more wretched than most.

  I have heard from people who were like the first guy in this blog. Saved at a young age, they never went and did those things we think of as horrible. However, in Gods eyes, was his sinfulness somehow less sinful than the murderers?

  Some who haven't "sinned as much" may wonder how God can use them to reach people.

  That whole line of thinking is a lie. It smells like smoke and is from the pit of hell. Riddle me this:

Who gave us the idea that our sins aren't as bad as others?

Who made us think that we were so righteous?

Who said that God can't use us cause we weren't as bad as others?

Does the Bible teach that some people are more wretched than others?

IT DOESN'T WORK!!!!!!

  We ALL come to God miserable, wretched, and broken. There is no sin hierarchy. We all have made a hash of Gods law. We all trampled on the cross and cursed at the saviour. Our vileness and corruption hung our dear Lord on the cross.

  How dare any of us imagine that somehow we are less guilty. We stand before a holy and sovereign God only because of what He did for us.

The Bible proclaims that our righteousness is as filthy rags.

What, you somehow think your rags aren't as dirty as someone else's? You fool. How can grace have its work on you while you still think you are a good person?

  It is important for us not to lose sight of our own deceitfulness. We can very easily begin thinking that God is very lucky, and didn't have to do much, to have saved us.

  After all, Jesus only shed a couple of drops of blood for me. Those truly disgusting people are the ones who He had to........    

The porn star

  I listened to an interview with a former porn star. She had been desiring to get into modeling and then slowly got coerced into revealing more and more. Her photographer had gained her trust by being nice and even talking about his own Christian background. Eventually the lure of money and the confidence of friends won over and she began posing nude.

  Almost immediately God began to convict her of what she had done. She called the webmaster and tried, unsuccessfully, to back out of the deal. She was able to extricate herself from further involvement, but the damage was already done and would soon haunt her.

  To her horror, within days of the site opening up her friends and family found out. Relationships were strained and hearts broken. Her relationship with her mom had still yet to heal at the time of the interview.

  Today she is a beacon of hope and reconciliation. Her strength thru the pain is a true gift of God. She stands as a testimony to the love of the gospel. Her openness will help rescue many. She has become a true woman. Gods woman.
 
  According to the interview her photos still exist on the website. Think about this, there are men who are seeing her and have no idea that she has changed. They are lusting after a woman who was very much hurt by the very images they are currently enjoying! Dude, that is rough stuff.

  My own addiction to pornography caused me to not think of women as real people. By viewing so many photographs, my heart became walled off from real connection. The real women I encountered slowly became like the imaginary women. I became incapable of a true relationship.

  This woman has helped me put those images back in their proper context. These aren't bodies to be lusted after, they are true women who should be cherished. They are women with hurts and pasts that have brought them to this place of confusion. They are women who seem to be enjoying life to the full, while slowly the noose tightens.

  In fact, the woman in the interview said that she felt glamorous at first. With all the neat cloths and makeup, she felt beautiful. She felt cherished and cared for. She wasn't aware of her great need to feel beautiful and desired, so she sought it in the wrong place, and believed the money made it ok.

  The trouble is, I felt the same way when I looked at porn. Here was an attractive lady that accepted me, warts and all. She wasn't concerned with my failures or my faults. She wasn't concerned with the finances or mortgage. It wasn't important if I truly cared for her. She was there to accept me. She could just give and I could just take. No harm done. And I really believed all that!

  I am glad I listened to the interview. O how I hope that more men and women will see just how destructive becoming involved with porn can be.

  Do you think the church can help? Wouldn't a former porn star be a valuable asset to The Lords church? What is it wasn't a former one, but one that was seeking?

  The church is supposed to be a place of healing for all. We should be able to come and pour out our pains and disappointments. We do not become complainers when we do, rather we expose the bad thoughts to the light where they can wither and die.

  Even in recovery I have bad thoughts attack me. Try out this next paragraph and see what you think. Remember, temptation isn't a sin, its when that temptation lures us away that sin begins.

   I was tempted to go look up pictures of this woman. I could say that I was only going to look at proper photos of her, ya know.....just so I could more imagine her pain and be able to put a face on the struggle. Wow what a load of mushrooms that is! Looking her up would have inevitably ended with me gazing upon her naked form. My imagination would not have been satisfied with safe images when naughty ones were just a click away. By maintaining my boundaries I didn't fall and this woman wasn't objectified by yet another dude.

  Let us face it, addiction is insipid and brutal. It takes no prisoners and does not negotiate. If I don't expose the wicked thoughts I slowly become alone and incapable of love. But the woman on the web page will still care for me, I just feel it. Brutal.

Slow down

  I just heard a story about soldiers dying at an alarming rate while storming into rooms. This close quarters combat issue evidently came down to soldiers rushing into a room too quickly, not being able to fully assess the surroundings, and thus being vulnerable to attack.

  To solve this situation the army adopted a new strategy. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.

  That concept is so simple! I find myself applying it to more and more situations. In recovery taking your time and doing it smoothly seems so slow. Yet, people with more time and serenity say, "Relax, if you rush you will fail".

  I am gonna try and slow down. The pace should be set by God and I should just let him lead. I wish He would hurry up!
 
Ecclesiastes 7:8
Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof: and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit.

Forgiveness

  I spent some time discussing forgiveness with some friends yesterday. One of the guys had his sisters molested by a friend of the family quite a few years ago. The pain and trauma of what happened eventually led to his being raised in foster care, his parents divorce, and his mother becoming lesbian. The offender spent ten years in prison, then passed away a couple years after his release.

  My friend has no clue how to start forgiving this guy and neither do I. So I would like to chronicle some of the difficulties of forgiveness.

  This situation isn't easy to figure out. Was the guy responsible for the divorce, foster care, and lesbianism? Was he a catalyst in making those things happen? Can my friend forgive the man even tho the guy has passed away and can't ask for forgiveness? Are my friends anger issues this dudes fault?

  I am not trying to answer any specifics about my friends situation. I just want you to imagine how you would feel and what you might do.

  The difficulties of forgiving this heinous act are numerous. It involves treating ones own unforgiveness as a cancer. We don't want to gloss over the bad behaviour, nor do we want to continue holding the resentment. Resentment will poison our lives if not taken care of.

  One way to begin forgiving someone is by writing out what happened and how we were affected. We then take that letter and share it with someone safe. We don't hold back or minimize our thoughts or feelings. The listening party doesn't try to do anything but encourage them to go deep and get it all out. Anger and tears are common.

  We can then take the letter and have a closure ceremony. Some have found that burning the letter can be quite healing. Some may want to keep the letter in their journal. If they want to keep the letter I would encourage them to find some other appropriate way to symbolize letting go.

  What about maybe talking to the person who hurt you? Confronting the person who hurt you can be helpful, but be careful! What if they try to minimize what they did? What if they point out your faults? What if the jerkasaurus thinks you don't deserve an apology? What if the healing you thought you would get becomes even more bitterness?

  Lets face it, sometimes I don't like forgiving certain people. I feel like I have power and control by not forgiving them. Sometimes I think if I forgive them I must then be buddy buddy with them. And I don't want to do that! Those suckers deserve whatever pain they get.

  I am told that forgiveness at the core is cancelling a debt. Sometimes the debt is so large it seems impossible. Sometimes the pain is so huge forgiveness seems unfair. Sometimes my anger is so righteous forgiveness seems stupid and illogical.

  When I think of debt being cancelled I think of the cross. The old saying is, "He paid a debt he didn't owe, and I owed a debt I couldn't pay".

  Does recognizing my own sins help me forgive the sins of others? Not very often. I mean, it should. I would sound much more spiritual if I said it did. But I am just not that good. I don't like forgiving people unless I get something out of it. But if I get something out of it am I really forgiving or am I just reducing payment?

  If people would stop hurting me I wouldn't have to learn these lessons. Life would be easy. Yet God has ordered my path and forgiveness is something that he says will help.

  pOne of my friends said, "If someone keeps stepping on your toes, you should buy steel-toed boots." 

  I like that thought. The trouble is, it allows the person to keep reoffending and I pretend like it doesn't matter. Classic enabling. "Don't worry about hurting me, I am tough and can take it."

  So I challenge you... How do you forgive? And can you explain it in common terms without going super spiritual. I do think that God certainly empowers us to be able to forgive, but what are those little things we can do that helps move the process along?
 

My first view

  I am arriving at a terrible memory. It involves my first view of pornography. I don't know what the average age is for a kid to view porn for the first time is, for me it was nine.
 
  My dad took me (maybe my sister also) to see Porky's. I only know that I was nine by looking up when the movie was made. I suppose that I could have been ten, depending on when the release date was.

-Plot summary from imdb.com-
"Set in 1954, a group of Florida high schoolers seek out to lose their virginity which leads them to seek revenge on a sleazy nightclub owner and his redneck sheriff brother for harassing them"

  The movie is rated "R" and I am sure the director narrowly missed the "X" rating by being clever with a few scenes. There is plenty of nudity both male and female. There are hookers, strippers, and a madame or two.

  At nine years old I didn't know what to do with this info. The guys seemed to be having fun and I liked fun. So I began looking for this "fun".

  The neighbor kids were slightly older and they liked fun. He was thirteen and she was eleven. So I stole some wine from my dads cupboard, we all drank, and we danced nude. I felt so accepted and cared for. Finally I had arrived.  
 
  I didn't know at the time just how much I would attach acceptance with sex. If a lady cared for me, clearly sex should follow.

  I hid the alcohol in the water meter box and hoped for further contact with the neighbor kids. When they didn't want to "play", I drank the alcohol and was comforted. I remember riding the bus home wondering when I could sneak a drink. Drinking socially wasn't an option for me, even from the start.

  What I want to know is:

How come my dad stayed and watched the movie with me/us?

Was he worried about losing the money he had spent?

Did he really want to see those images and was unconcerned about the impact it would have on his young child?

The drive to the theatre was 30 minutes. Was he upset at the hour investment to get there and back, so he might as well just watch it?

  I can't think of any other scenarios that would make sense. Any one of those answers stink. My dad was a broken man, and so am I. I am certain he is not aware just how horrible that movie was. And I am certain he doesn't remember going (he might if he reads this).

  Instead of gently warning his son of the dangers of porn and alcohol, my dad provided them.

  I am not trying to blame my dad for making me the addict I have become. I would have found the pleasures of porn and alcohol on my own. But these were my first exposures to them. Those pleasures only lasted for a while, just like the Bible said they would. I warped my mind trying to pursue acceptance in a bottle or a breast.

  Things are getting better now. I have a group of men I can talk to who help me process things in a proper way. I even have female friends who I don't pursue sexually. My father and I are building bridges towards a loving relationship. But best of all, I found forgiveness in the finished work of the cross.

******UPDATE*******

  After a review of my timeline I now realise that the dancing nude with the neighbor kids happened when I was seven or eight. This puts it before Porky's . The neighbor boy was somewhere around twelve. Certainly old enough to know what was what.

  So that's where my sexual beginnings started. No wonder I struggle with sexual purity. I grew up  believing sex was just a good way to be friends with a girl. And if we didn't have sex I was being rejected.

  It is really difficult to process this history. It seems to bring into focus all the pains and struggles I have had.

The scorecard

  I came across an old scorecard from 2000. It was for a bowling league we used to play in. Those were such fun times. It is a strange thing to look back in time and remember where you were at.

  We would get my grandma to watch the kids every bowling night. She just loved coming over. I think we tried to have a meal ready for her to serve the kids.

  I was a more competitive bowler, my wife just had fun. The scorecard has me winning the top scratch score and my wife winning top handicap. It was a tremendous week!

  So I cherish those times. Who knew a small piece of paper could flood my memories and emotions? We had many great evenings bowling. Hope we can do it again sometime.
 

Paradise City

  Cruising thru Tacoma, radio blaring, and blam-o GnR comes on with Paradise City. Its a great tune to rock out to. The city lights reflect off the other cars and I am just certain they are listening to The same tune. The banshee yells of Axl seem to be in tune to the hum of my truck. I am mesmerized.

  Its not like I particularly care for for the lyrics of the song. I am not sure even what they are! The song just takes me back to highschool. Lonely nights on forbidden roads wondering just how much trouble I would be in when I finally did go home. Now its 2am, I am on similar roads, the music is cranked,  nobody is expecting me home, or wondering if I am safe.

  The irony is that there is a place called Paradise City and its not to far away. Just down the road and up a little hill called Raineer and you find that little city. I don't know if I have ever been there, but I do want to go.

  I like rock and roll on night drives thru the city. Looking at the city all lit up lends itself to a guitar solo. Much in the same way a cow and barn don't! I enjoy these times.
 

Anxious Andy

This story I adapted from a sermon illustration by Greg Laurie.

  Anxious Andy worried about everything. His friends tried to help him by sharing things he could hope in, nevertheless Andy just had to be anxious.

  One day Anxious Andy hit upon a clever idea. "Why not hire someone to worry for me?"

  A few days pass by and his friends gradually become aware that something has changed. "Andy, how come you don't worry anymore?"

  "I hired someone to worry for me."

  His friends asked how much this cost Andy.

  "Ten thousand a week."

"Have you lost your mind! You can't afford ten thousand a week!!!"

  Anxious Andy replied, "That's for them to worry about"

He says he is in recovery...

  Your special someone is in recovery. You are full of hope and dreams. Yet you wonder, "Is this real?" How do you find out? Is there a way to test the fruit of repentance?

  There is four things that go along with recovery. Anyone in recovery who is doing the stuff  should demonstrate these things. You should be able to see it without them even telling you.

The person must:

...Be able to explain their issues (what caused them to become who they became)

...Own it (no longer blame anyone or anything for what they have done)(accept responsibility)

...Have a plan of recovery (this plan better be a good one that lots have recovered with before)

...Understand that you don't have to trust them (you get to choose that...coercion must stop)

  Hint: don't tell them you are looking for these things. Don't give them the list! These things come naturally from a repentant heart. If they are in recovery, they can't help but do these things!

Safe people

  I am not going to write a book on this subject, but I do have some decent ideas about who is safe and who isn't. At least, I think they are decent. You be the judge.

   Who is a safe person to seek counsel in?

  For starters, they should hold similar values as yours. If the person is going to try to talk you into doing something you know is wrong, that person is unsafe.

  That person should have nothing emotionally at stake in what you do. Sure they will love you and care about you, but if what you do can mess them up...that is an unsafe person. Suppose you share with them that your husband is looking at porn. They freak out and tell you to divorce right away...no chance for repentance. Then you find out that the person had a failed marriage and is still bitter. Unsafe person.

  How about the gossip? They get so excited about your recovery they go tell everyone! Unsafe.

  What about the opinionated newcomer? They know it all and am shocked at how little everyone else knows. Unsafe!

  How about the one who gets angry at just about everyone they know at one time or another? You will become one of those people they get angry at.

  Be careful dear friend. Unsafe people can be caring. They can appear harmless. They may even intend the best for you. But, if they aren't solid in there recovery, trusting them will make you unsure in your recovery. Ultimately, don't walk past warning signs about people.

A real bozo that I am

  Yesterday I backed up to a dock and went inside to talk to the lumper about unloading the trailer. The man was rude very uncordial in his speech. I responded appropriately by returning his lack of kindness.
 
  I went out to the truck to get a check for their services. As I was waiting for my company to issue the check, I mentally reviewed the conversation to see if (or how badly) I had behaved.

  As I perused the darker recesses of my mental abilities, I concluded that I had better be nicer in the next conversation with the lumper. I didn't want to but I should.

  I headed back inside ready to play nice. The fellow spoke exactly the same as before only now I noticed that he spoke with a small degree of difficulty. What I had taken as rudeness was really him being deliberate in his speech.

  No, I didn't say to him "I thought you were just rude, now I think you are just slow".

  I feel kinda bad about the whole thing. When someone gets snappy or rude I really like being a jerk back. Sometimes they may have just had some horrible thing happen, they don't like their job, or whatever...the point is...perhaps I should be kinder. I'm not saying I always will be. But I will try.

 

 

Cryptic messages

  I really enjoy throwing my thoughts down on this blog, even the bad ones. I strive not to be perfect. Instead I strive for openness. This doesn't come naturally for me. I have been an alcoholic/addict for much of my life.

  Part of my difficulty is identifying things that I struggle with and articulating them. My thoughts don't form this way.

  I traditionally function better focusing on the crap other people do. Lets face it, there is plenty of crap to talk about out there! :)

  I only achieve my feelings of contentment when I get my funky gunk out. Whereas I used to find joy in passing judgement on others, I now find joy in being more open with who I am.

  I have been at this process for over two years. No artificial pain killers.

  My family hasn't come back yet. There is hope that they will. There is fear that they won't. I don't want another family.

  I sit and think a lot. I used to call it stewing, now I think of it as more like a tossed salad.

  I have no idea what that last sentence was about. I just thought it would be funny to write it.

  So life goes on and funky gunk comes out. Life does keep getting better daily. But my historical perspective also becomes clearer.

Normality

  I am completely convinced that I am unable to attain or grasp normality. Or maybe that's the most normal thought I have ever had. 

  Is it normal for someone who hurts his family to feel sorrow when he can't talk to them?

  Alcoholism isn't normal. Addiction isn't normal. I guess recovery isn't normal then either.

  The disease model of alcoholism seems normal until you apply it to recovery. A cancer victim goes to war with his disease and the family hopes for the best recovery so they can have more time with him.

  To the man suffering from addiction this scenario doesn't play out the same. His disease has harmed his family emotionally and often physically. His family desires his recovery but they can injure themselves by helping or being involved. Sometimes separating is the right thing to do.

  Easy? Yeah right.

  I live in this separated world. I have found God. I have found sobriety. I have found untold grief and sorrow. I have a map to finding peace....I think I even have a ticket to getting there :)

  But is this all normal?

  This can't be normal. But it doesn't seem strange. It just is.

  I gotta stop trying to figure out what I should feel and just feel whatever I am feeling. I think I feel lonely.

Suffering at the hands of:

  It is with great shame and pain I write this blog.

  I have hurt my family in many ways. My alcoholism and addictions have caused untold grief and anguish for many.

  The forum of writing online limits what I can say. I can't disclose all the garbage I have done. In so doing I may further hurt those I have injured.

  Now, with all the preliminaries out of the way, lets get real.

  Today I find myself grieving very much. The horrible things I have done have caused a loved one to cut themselves and contemplate suicide.

  I am incapable of describing with enough intensity the horror I feel about that last paragraph.

  Throughout my recovery I have been a little naive. I supposed this person was doing fine and was able to cope. My prayers for them weren't as focused as they should have been. My selfishness was focused on them forgiving me. I should have been more concerned for their emotional healing.

  This process of recovery is slow and painful. My soul is crushed and my spirit broken. How is it possible for this moron to hurt others so greatly? And now I must stand back and watch them struggle to find the same lifeline I grabbed. This stinks.

The greener grass

  "The grass is greener on the other side"

  I have believed this statement for way too long. I submit my mind to the fantasy that life is somehow better for someone else. I would just be happy to be who they are.
 
  Truth be told, the grass is greener where it is cared for.

  If I want that great relationship with my wife then I have to tend to the things that can cause that closeness.

  The cool thing is that God says he will help. I don't have to water alone anymore. Praise God!

Walk in the dark

  "Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling". Those lyrics make my heart pause.

   I think about how fast I ran away from God. I think about the times I knew what was right to do and chose another way. I think about Jesus calling to me just as the streetlights are coming on. He is calling, "Come in before the dark!"

  Oh but I waited too long. The streets grew disfigured with the stretching of the shadows. Excitement was in the air and everything seemed possible.

  I grew to love that twilight land. I could still see the porch where Jesus was calling, but I could see the excitement of the unknown slowly coming on. What things are possible at night?

  I had to explore this dark nether world. It frightened me yet gave me comfort. My life slowly became darkened and yet I liked it. The fear was replaced by excitement.

  I was becoming a zombie. I could still remember those wonderful days in the sun. I remember going on picnics and walks in the parks. Frolicking in the snow and splashing in the water. The seasons didn't matter, the light did. Those memories are fading.

  The shadows grew longer. I wondered what terrible things hid in those shadows. Weren't they just the same things that were there in the daylight?

  The sunlight hurts my skin now. Any exposure causes me to wince. My family and friends like the sun so I have to pretend it doesn't hurt when I go out now. I hope they don't notice the change.

  The darkness is enjoyable now. The shadows aren't scary anymore. The scariest thing out here is me. I worry that my family will tell me to stop visiting the darkness, I don't think I can do that.

  I find the darkness miserable yet I find no comfort in the light either. I grope around in darkness and I am blinded during the day.

  I am so lonely.

  My comfort has taken away my pleasure.

  I can't see anymore at night. The darkness is so complete I run into things and hurt myself. Other times I attack and hurt others, but I don't know who they are. Its just too dark.

  I freely hurt others, I begin to curse the light. Wounds begin appearing on people who I know. Devouring them seems reasonable.

  My family has a nightmare. Their nightmare is me. Anybody have a cure for a zombie?

 

 

Grace

John Calvin...some thoughts on grace

  God’s children are pleasing and lovable to him, since he sees in them the marks and features of his own countenance. For we have elsewhere taught that regeneration is a renewal of the divine image in us. Since, therefore, wherever God contemplates his own face, he both rightly loves it and holds it in honor, it is said with good reason that the lives of believers, framed to holiness and righteousness, are pleasing to him. (Institutes 3.17.5)

  Therefore, as we ourselves, when we have been engrafted in Christ, are righteous in God’s sight because our iniquities are covered by Christ’s sinlessness, so our works are righteous and are thus regarded because whatever fault is otherwise in them is buried in Christ’s purity, and is not charged to our account. Accordingly, we can deservedly say that by faith alone not only we ourselves but our works as well are justified. (Institutes 3.17.10)

Memorials

  When Joshua led the children of Israel into the promised land they got twelve stones out of the river and set them up for a memorial. Future generations would ask what the stones were for and then they could be told the story of rescue and deliverance done by God.

  Is there a modern day equivalent? Is there something we can set up that would demonstrate to others our history of recovery as Christians?

  For many the answer is no. If God did deliver them from anything, they are too embarrassed to set up a memorial.

  Openness and honesty are the hallmarks of getting better. Hiding our past is an indicator that we haven't gotten better, only become better at hiding.

  I carry a sobriety coin. It tells me how long I have been sober. It also invites people to ask me about it. I can share as little or as much as I like. But if I don't share anything but how great I am doing today, people can't relate.

  Humanity is broken. For those who pretend they are not broken, go do something rotten so God can forgive you. Its alot better once you have.

  And once God has forgiven you of that horrible act, set up a memorial of his deliverance. Don't set up reminders of how you rescued yourself.

Monkey on your back?

"What Gorilla?"

wife of an addict interview....Awesome!

Pirate Monk Podcast » Episode 27 - The Allie Interview

Nate Larkin

"Nate Larkin"
A testimonial you must hear.

Clean Slate

  Many times when I failed at something my father would pronounce "Now you have a clean slate!". We would have a rather lengthy conversation about all the interesting ways I had flubbed it up, then my slate would be clean.

  I didn't know what a slate was, didn't know mine was dirty, and certainly had no clue if I could then keep it clean!

  Nevertheless I got the basic concept. My sins were forgiven, my future was restored, and my dad could think proudly of me again.

  Inevitably I began to sully the cleanness of my slate. I enjoyed making my slate dirty. (I still do)

  My dad would begin the next round of correction by exploring the vast ways I had previously failed. Although I didn't know what a slate was, I knew mine was never actually wiped clean. The filth was still there and my dad never failed to remind me.

  Today I understand what a slate is and how it gets cleaned. In reality, every attempt I make to clean the slate of my life fails. Every time.

  I need a power greater than myself that can clean it. I need a redeemer who has cleanser. I need a saviour who has the ability to forget what was on the slate. I need a super duper slate cleaner!

  My father was a poor substitute for this need I had. I imagine that God wanted my dad to demonstrate this slate cleaning concept, my dad just couldn't.

  I walk through life now intimately aware of my faults. These sins don't get in the way of Gods love towards me. He sees me writing on my slate and loves me anyways. His love is free and covers anything I write.

  I have a clean slate and God has given me a pen with invisible ink.

Saying goodbye

  A dear friend has been separated from his wife for a few months. Today she leaves to go to Texas and she is taking their 18 year old daughter with them.

  He has been working overtime to try and rescue the marriage. Unfortunately, it appears not to have worked.

  Yesterday he hoped to see his daughter for one last movie or something. It didn't work out. So he got to say goodbye today for only a couple minutes.

  So right now my friend is in pain. He is having to let his wife and daughter go and he has no idea when he will see them again. Its painful.
 

How could you forget?

Exodus 17:13-14

And Joshua discomfited Amalek and his people with the edge of the sword. And the Lord said unto Moses, Write this for a memorial in a book, and rehearse it in the ears of Joshua: for I will utterly put out the remembrance of Amalek from under heaven.

  So Joshua puts a huge whooping on Amalek, Moses' arms are like jello, and the victory was awesome. Why then the command to "rehearse it in the ears of Joshua"? Who's gonna forget this?
 
  Let me use myself as an example. I have watch God totally carry me through life's trials. His faithfulness is amazing. I have fought in the trenches, doubted if it would work, and God came through.

  Will I remember former victories when I fight future battles? Will I have those around me to strengthen me as Moses did?

  Then there is poor old Moses. He starts to tire, his arms come down, and his side starts losing! No pressure there! What if some ants started crawling up his leg and he just had to swat at them?! How uncomfortable.

  Then there is the uptight baptist who said, "Who is that crazy guy on the hill holding his hands up?! We are fighting here and he is holding some praise and worship service up there?  The heretic!"

  I should make this into a small play. The humor would be great.

Prayer app

  I installed a prayer app for my phone. Basically I put the people I want to pray for and their needs into this app and it reminds me to pray for them. I can put people in a daily prayer routine or randomize it. It is fully adaptive to whatever I want.

  So my prayer life is different now. I hadn't realized just how much I never prayed specifically for people!

  I just marvel at the fact that God has blessed me with so many people I can pray for, the ability to be reminded, and the power to actually do it!

  So think about your prayer life. An app for the phone helps to remind, but it doesn't really make it any easier to actually do!

Women poem

I have read a lot of poems
About how women are like flowers

Women are God's pinnacle of creation
The perfect display of His awesome powers

I think about my wifes love
And the years I have caused her pain

Will I see her in full bloom,
Or is she destined to not flower again?

Flowers need lots of gentleness
I suppose men do too

But men are more like fertilizer
We are often full of poo

Easter amends

  It has been a while since I blogged. Times have been busy and full. Guess when the Bible says that I will live life abundantly, this qualifies!

  Easter was awesome. I have a more profound understanding of the cost of my sins. The remarkable thing is that they are all paid for. All of them! That payment was expensive! So very costly!

  Easter is a day of redemtion. Easter is a day of hope. I had lost all hope, then I observed the cross and the empty tomb, now I have great hope.

  It's all true dear friend! Jesus conquered the grave, received punishment for our sins, and rose victorious! This great hope of redemption is all I have left to place hope in.

  My terrible sins have cost me plenty. I remain hopeful that I will be able to make full amends someday to those I have harmed. The greatest amends I needed to make were made for me, Jesus made them to the Father. Amazing!!

  Easter is amends day. Jesus bore a great burden to secure my forgiveness. No wonder Paul could say that todays sufferings couldn't even be compared to the glory to come. Glory hallelujah!

It's a wonderful plan

Philippians 1:29
"For unto you it is given in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for his sake"

  What a statement by Paul! He was shown what things he would suffer for Jesus and here he is telling us we will suffer also!

  Check out Philipians 3:7-8
"But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may when Christ".

  Is this the gospel you have heard proclaimed? Were you promised a wonderful life? What do you do with verses like these who say we will suffer?

  If we promise an unbeliever that God wants to give them a wonderful life, do they actually consider the cost? Its expensive to serve Christ! It costs us our desires, our goals, our families, our lives.

   So what's to gain? Freedom from sin. Oh that blessed freedom! Rejoice! Rejoice! Our sins are cast away, never to be remembered! Oh blessed Redeemer!

  Stop using God's blessings as "draw cards" to introduce people to Him. They may take you up on your offer, never repent and trust, and still be bound for hell.

  When I was fourteen I gave myself to God. I was promised a wonderful life and I took it. What changed for me?

  Nothing

  I still had my sinful nature. I just thought God would shield me from the consequences of my sins. I thought God would "open doors" and "bind up the devil" for me. After all, He promised me a wonderful life.

  Twenty-two years later and sin still had me in its death grip. How could I, God's child, be so vile and wretched? He was supposed to change my life into wonderful! I was duped!

  Paul says we are in a race. I got off to a false start! I "jumped the gun" and never repented. Jesus was a way of getting what I wanted. I wasn't given the opportunity to examine myself against God's law and discover my sinful nature.

  So, instead of being regenerated by Gods Holy Spirit, I was innoculated. I became a false convert.

  Today I see the truth. God didn't come to give me a wonderful life. He came to pay for my sins. He paid a huge price to pay for my sins. I am ashamed that I trampled the blood of Jesus by believing He came to give me "a wonderful life".

  Is it wonderful that He forgave my sins? Absolutely! But nobody thinks about their sins when we tell them, "God has a wonderful plan for your life".

  Paul suffered. He says I will also. I count that "wonderful life" that I had as dung. It was worthless.

Wrongful birth?!

Deborah and Ariel Levy: Portland couple wins case against Legacy Heath for 'wrongful birth' after daughter is born with Down...

Hey Folks, I get that the people will need extra money to pay for the extra needs of their daughter. But suing because they weren't given enough information to kill the child? This is utter depravity. When did it become ok to sue for "wrongful birth"?

  I hope the parents are having, or will have, second thoughts about ever wanting to abort this little girl. I know I have done tremendously wicked things in my life and God forgave me (for Christ's sake). I surely hope they repent of their wicked desire to abort their daughter. Yes, God can forgive them. Let's hope they come to Jesus and He washes them clean.

  I want to further the gospel a bit more. Friend, if you think your sins aren't as bad as these, think again. Our vileness is just as vile even if we don't think so. God looks upon the heart and proclaims hatred as murder. Looking with lust as adultery. If we have ever lied, He says, "You are of your father, the Devil, the father of lies". That's three of the "10 commandments". Do you really want to look at more to see if you get them right?

  I hope you catch the point. We are all condemned under the law. Let the law teach you that! Then, when you see your condemnation, agree with God about your wickedness (repentance), and cry out to Jesus. He suffered and died to pay for our sins. He has not promised you a terrific and wonderful life, but He does offer forgiveness for breaking His laws.

Survivor or victim

  Children of holocaust survivers were polled and asked how they felt about the trauma their parents went thru. The result of this was shocking!

  Those parents who described how they survived, the circumstances that caused them to make it, and those things that helped, their children had great empathy for what they went thru.

  Those parents who described how they were abused, the hardships they endured, and how they felt victimized, their children felt substantially less empathy.

  I take this to mean, if we share how we struggle, if we display our hurts and what we are doing to overcome them, people will more naturally want to care about us. If we show ourselves as victims only, people will have a difficult time relating to us.

  Why do I find this helpful? I want others to care about the hard things I face! Who doesn't? But, if all I do is complain those same people won't care as much. This is just reality. Sounds heartless and cruel, but its true.

  In recovery we have a saying, "Live in the solution". If we focus on only our problems, rejecting sound advice, who wants to be around us? 

  So, speak about our hurts and worries, talk about painful things. But don't forget to include the bit about how God is our rescuer. And if we do forget, don't poo-poo the fellow who steers the conversation back to recovery with God. 

  Lemme give an example from my life.

  I was a blackout drunk. Things I did were deplorable and hideous. I hurt many people deeply. When I first got sober I would say things like, "Why is this happening? I didn't mean to do it!". Naturally most people were not very empathetic.

  Today I tell what horrible things I did, what I am doing in recovery, and how God is working on me. Now I find people showing me empathy.

  I didn't change my approach to garner their good will. I just view what happened differently, so I talk about it differently. Instead of being a victim of blackouts, I am a sober/recovering scuzbucket who used to drown my sorry butt in alcohol and drugs. People relate better!

  What's it gonna be? Victim or survivor?

Dispensational truth

  Ahh, nothing like a theological term to title a blog. Really gets the interest piqued huh? Here is the scoop.

  My friend had always struggled with eternal security. You know, once saved always saved. He has finally gotten comfortable knowing he can't lose his salvation, but now he wants to show his brother (who thinks he lost his salvation). But he is unsure how to deal with Hebrews chapter six. Good question, how do you deal with Hebrews six if you can't lose your salvation?

  The first thing to point out is that Hebrews is God's command that men make the coffee. That being said, Hebrews is written to the Jews. So we must begin with a Jewish outlook about it. (I am going to say the Hebrews coffee thing in church sometime, deadpan all the way!)

  If you understand that the promises given to the Hebrews, and the promises given to the church, are different, then you have completed Theology and Eschatology 101. Oh sure, the promises can be similar, and there is overlap, but where they are different we should just accept that they are different. It really settles a lot of scripture.

  To keep it simple, if you want to get the message to the church correct, just pay attention to the Apostle to the Gentiles. That would be Paul. He shoots a straight message about salvation, in the church age, in all his epistles. If he authored Hebrews, he was clearly aiming at a different audience (Israel).

  Just like gleaning from the spiritual promises made to, say Noah, we must be careful not to apply the physical promises given to Noah incorrectly. We could end up with "gopher wood and pitch" churches! The physical promises made to the nation Israel are great for spiritual lessons, they can wreck havoc when applied literally (not spiritually) to the christian. (Gopher wood and pitch, a great Christian band name!)

  I hope I am not stirring the pot here. This dispensational belief I hold has been taught for many years and is considered orthodox. Yes, its a huge hunk o' spiritual meat. Some gag and some spit it out. But basically, its the only way to reconcile many verses.

  I have heard this called "The Kingdom of God" and "The Kingdom of Heaven". Since heaven isn't God (that would be pantheism) they must be different. Simply put, Israel's physical promises are "The Kingdom of Heaven". The church's spiritual promises are "The Kingdom of God". Are there overlap? Yep. Are the promises often different? You bet!

  Confused yet?

  I think for me the matter cleared up when I found myself unable to understand Hebrews 6, James 2, Acts 2, Matthew 5-7, and Matthew 24. They didn't make sense in light of Paul's epistles or the Gospel of John. How can you understand the diaspora (Matthew 24) if you think Israel's promises are to the church? Once I realised I was reading someone elses promises, I relaxed. Finally, I had peace and the Bible made sense. I was no longer trying to reconcile things that are meant to be different. I could gain great spiritual truths from those scriptures and not fret about the "works" that are in them.  

  Hope this helps. Hope I didn't just confuse you more. Next week, a study of hermeneutics. If you know what that last word means then you don't need to read next week!

  P.S. I really ain't writin bout none dem thar hermunooticks next week!