Alright, so Audrey has complained that it’s been a week since my last post. I’m not sure why I’d bother posting again, considering not much has changed. I typically like to mix things up, ya know? Don’t like to post something new unless my sadness has turned to joy, or at least anger . . . you know, something different.

But not much has changed.

Yesterday, at church, a guest pastor came and said he was going to give a personal testimony about “being in the wilderness”. Naturally, I smiled on the inside, hoping that this was the answer to my prayer just 2 hours prior to church, when I begged and pleaded for God to just speak SOMETHING to me, because the confusion in my head was eating me alive.

I dunno, I guess I just wasn’t really feelin’ the message. It seemed a bit rushed to me. I wish I could have had some time to talk to the guy afterwards, because he seemed to have a lot of depth and clearly had survived a lot. But the message itself was . . . I dunno . . . predictable? I mean, the minute he mentioned Paul’s name, I immediately flipped to II Corinthians . . . you know, the “My grace is sufficient for you . . . ” section. Sure enough, that’s where he started preaching from. Predictable.

Yet, I must admit, it wasn’t a bad message. Bad messages usually leave a bitter taste in my mouth. This had no such effect. As a matter of fact, it was quite palatable . . . I guess it just left me wanting for something slightly richer. It was kinda like having a taste for cheesecake, but getting a twinkie instead. Hey, it’s fattening just the same, right? But cheesecake still would have been nice.

When prayer time came, I could feel the Lord telling me that I was stronger than I realized. And you know, it makes sense. I mean, there’s really no way in the world that someone with my baggage, and my knowledge of the way the world works should still be a virgin. It’s just unheard of in the circles I swing in. Yet here I am. Clearly God’s used some of this pain of mine to strengthen me in certain areas . . . to make me victorious.

Yet somehow, that rings hollow when the only emotion that seems to be consistent in your life is one of misery, ya know? Three years. Punctuated by brief moments of happiness, and scant brushes with freedom. But the misery seems to underly it all . . . like a steady current dragging the ships along the oceans.  It has control.

Why would I expect anything different though? All those who have walked this road before me, and have sacrificed hours to help me follow that same path have warned me . . . 5 years is the bear minimum. Can I last another 2? And what if I’m that “special” case that takes more than 5? Can I last MORE than 2? No. I can’t. God knows I can’t. I need relief.

I crave the bondage of Egypt
To be wrapped up in that warm, familiar blanket
Death to my bones, but ecstasy to my blinded eyes

The wound in my side, raw from the thorn
Bleeding a deluge of tears

Who would have thought, the life of the party
Was dead on the inside?
Who would have thought, the silent one in the corner
Was dying to be heard?

Yearning so hard, squeezing every shred of life
Out of the good
Burning so long, suppressing every urge
Even hell would be heaven

Where is peace?
Where is joy?
Figments of my imagination?

Where is God?
Where is Lucifer?
Figments of my imagination?

Every day I awake, robbed of my dreams
I escape inside myself, only to get lost

I am still here
Over and over again

I am still here
I am stronger than I know
A strength courses through my veins
A Power I do not know

It feeds me
It shelters me
It gives me something to smile about

When will this cycle end?
Even a strength unknown can be made weary by time



I think this was probably the first time that I ever felt myself especially moved by Pastor George.  Usually his Sunday messages leave me . . . I dunno, wanting more?  I rarely walk away feeling moved or convicted.  Not sure why that is exactly.  But today was different.  Today he talked about friendship, and loyalty, and being there in times of adversity.

Naturally, my mind immediately wanders to all of my own past wounds dealt by “friends”, but then I was humbled by the fact that I don’t always measure up to that “closer than a brother” mark for those that are near and dear to me. 

Couldn’t help but be convicted a bit too. . . about how much I tend to idolize friendships.  Not that I don’t have good reason to.  I’ve been burned pretty heavily.  But I realize that I have a long way to go when it comes to making Jesus my friend. As much as my mind knows that He occupies such a place in my life, my heart can’t quite grasp that.

Lance (my counselor) once told me that some people learn how to love others, because they experience the love of God. But then, some people learn to love God because they experience the love of others.  I guess I’m one of the folks that falls in the latter camp . . . but on those days when you’re feeling very much like you’re not loved by others, you begin to wonder what it even means to be loved by God.

I definitely KNOW God loves me.  And as a matter of fact, I recall an experience with Him that I’ll never forget, where He let me know in no uncertain terms exactly what kind of love He has for me (if you really wanna know, just ask me about it, because I’m not gonna type it!).  Yet, I find it so hard to hold onto that moment.  It gets lost in the everyday hustle and bustle of life.

It leaves me kind of lost as well.  I’m looking for love, hoping to find it in others, only to be hurt . . . looking to find it in God, but can’t seem to grasp it on an experiential level. 

Maybe that’s got a lot to do with the fact that my love language is touch.  If physical touch is how I perceive(and give) love best, how exactly would I ever know that God loves me, since He doesn’t exactly take on human form just for personal hugs???  Maybe that’s why we all need some “Jesus with skin on” sometimes, eh?  That’s why we need that friend who “sticks closer than a brother”?  I doubt I’d ever have any understanding that God loved me without that.

I admit, my hunger for that David-Jonathan kind of relationship leaves me constantly hungry for a brother who’ll pursue me, and will challenge me to continue on this long, arduous journey we call “life in Christ.”  But at the same time, I realize I already have friends like that, and I’m so friggin’ blessed!  You know who you are. Just wish you guys weren’t so damn far away!!

Anywho, the “Friend of the Week” award goes to my dawg Chris, who – on a chilly nite in downtown Baltimore – spent some time asking me a bunch of questions about my life way back in the day when I wasn’t quite the “angel” i am today .  Yeah, that feels like lovin.  Can’t beat that.

Peace and chicken grease

Ask and you shall receive, Dave

You should be able to read it below.