There’s Someone in the Fire

For all I’m writing this more along the lines of my title.  I struggle with keeping my sanity, as well as trying to be relevant and creative and battling my ability to survive in this broken world.  With all its demands that keep me from perishing and for that matter caring about it. My next post is going to be more of a story I like to call “The Tale of Two Thomas’.”

My depression is largely due mostly to feeling irrelevant. When once I was on the thick of things, doing lots of stuff being creative and giving and being a provider for my family, my business affairs, my music, my charitable aims, and projects.  I am a builder, not a spectator. I am a musician, not a passive participant. I am an absorber of knowledge not a self-proclaimed know it all.  Although when I finally get something right, I crave to pass on my triumphs and follies to save someone from the same.  So that they will listen and may learn and thus not fall into the failure holes that I have descended into.

I cherish those moments when I can see those epiphany moments when I really nailed it and could enjoy the moment with many others or just one. I enjoy trying to share the Gospel and can/could even preach it owing to my somewhat gifted speaking ability. I prefer to demonstrate no matter how rough around the edges it is because it makes it more genuine even when I screw up.  But besides adding to my stroke I have some trouble with my speech getting it out of my head and through my mouth. That makes me even more depressed.

I write mostly for myself because as I hope, my fellow mentally ill comrades in depression, it is therapyfor my troubled mind.I’ve had my bouts with overpowering and real and intimate battles with evil and Jesus pushes it away. I confided this to my priest friend as I battle between the chemical cures for my anti-seizure meds and the spiritual ones.  He gave my enlightenment an ah! Ha! moment.  He said that Jesus is coming when you cry out but if your biological body is weak it allows Satan to exploit that. Weakness and the meds and chemicals have their place if used as God’s healing tool. My seizure meds were adjusted, and the attacks subsided and when they come, I simply say to Jesus “I got this I don’t want you cure what is now more like a common cold than the horrific events that I go through.” So, I thought “Is this this something in my head and just more medication was needed and was I foolish or what. After some thought I determined no I need faith and biological healing.

Probably someone going through cancer treatments will tell you the same thing. It goes inextricably together.  If you’ve ever been to Oral Roberts University and what used to be its medical center there is a huge praying hands sculpture in the front of the entrance. The real meaning is one hand is for the physician doing the surgery and the other for praying and healing symbolizing the whole process of man and the power of God working in sync to perform miracles. This facility went bankrupt years ago not because of its mission of healing and God’s power. But because of man’s sinful nature of mismanaging funds, the breed of the lawyers that sues when things go wrong, through man made folly and leaning on their on their own understanding.  They forgot one of those precious hands.  Just like the old saying “physician heal thyself”.

I’m here to tell you that neither patient nor physician can heal themselves. It takes at least two maybe five. You and your talented physician, and three other guys, The Father The son and the Holy Spirit. They all work together like a close-knit team, yet they are individual entities unto themselves   It’s called the trinity for all you Christians.  I have a hard time wrapping my head around the theological deal on that.  I guess if I were a Jew or something else the concept of God might be a bit simpler, but I have felt the three distinct facets of the Trinity.

Without getting into the theological weeds, I know that for me Jesus is where I relate. After all he was biological like me, he was born, he lived, ate, laughed, cried and ultimately died a horrible death. Then all of a sudden, he beat the system of life and death and showed us how it’s done. We just have to read the history and then believe that if we’re not on the Pontius Pilot side of the deal (and there is redemption, even for that slug) we can catch up with him in a better place than we could ever imagine ,  and God wants it that way, or sure as hell we’d be building that tower of babel or waiting for Elon Musk to invent something to take us there.

So, what do we do now? We’re depressed and we’re living in the land of stupid. No one to talk to we’re all racists, communists, capitalists, religious hypocrites, sinners, saints (well maybe not so many of those) or everywhere in between or beyond.  Well, what I do, especially when there’s nothing else that works, I just get off by myself pull up a rocking chair sit outside, look up at the heavens and pose the million-dollar question, Why? Followed up with, How? And ask the creator what do you want me to do? Because I don’t have a clue. I used to know but I don’t anymore and nobody else sure as hell knows in the land of stupid of which I am a senior citizen only entering the land of wisdom when I stop long enough to look up at the stars.

I hear a lot of crickets but at least I’m alone with somebody who understands me.  And just knowing that brings me a little peace. Not much but sufficient for enough me and that will have to do. I don’t want to be a part of the broken world; because after all these years a slow learner like me can’t fix it, no matter how smart I think I am. I don’t give up on me and those I love. I’ll just wait…. but hurry it up God.

Respectfully yours from the land of stupid your faithful and flawed servant.