God has us!

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.” Proverbs 9:10.



The knowledge of the holy one. Right now my constant rate or fraction with the Lord is always a lack of trust or even balance. I have been saying the same prayer since I became clean and sober from drugs. I learned to lean on a simple prayer,"God, Grant me the Serenity, to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things i can, and the Wisdom to know the difference." The balance part is there, I am able to prioritize and handle situations completely different then resorting to a whiskey coke as liquid courage to approach conversations without fail. I'm not trying to manipulate the world to do my bidding anymore (well at least less than I was at, i'm working on progress). But seeking God at times of trouble and being surprised when God answers prayers as if it was a christmas miracle and not trully believing that God has unlimited power and resources at his disposal. Lord help me with my unbelief. "Immediately the boy's father exclaimed, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24).

The Serenity prayer holds a lot of power especially in the realm of recovery. It runs deep into the souls of many people trying to turn away from a life of guilt, shame, pain and loss. Help me with my unbelief, we ask God to provide something for us and when we get it we turn our back from the provider. It's like a heroin addict going to get methadone without acknowledging the harm reduction tactic as a helpful tool to mend the dope sickness. It's like being ungrateful with the amount of food on our trays, or complaining about a lack of sleep when we ignore the grim reality that someone didn't sleep at all last night.

Help me with my unbelief...especially when i'm in desperate measures and completely and utterly alone. I sometimes believe only "Help me when it's convienent to me and my needs." We are at a point where we say to God "Help me get to the top of Maslows Pyramid but than God, please step out of my way." We ignore our provider, as teenagers, as children do. We all need to work on the view of unbelief. God provides our necesities every single second. The very breath you are breathing right now has been provided and planned out. Our blueprint and very deep moral fiber, beliefs, attitudes all planned out. God has us...God always had us.

We get surprised also when we know we can't do something on our own and only God can provide us with answers or strength to continue to do some of the things we do. He gives us life. That should be enough, God has already giving us a kingdom all the riches here on earth are nothing compared to what we get when the episode on this planet ends for us. God has us! ever since the Old Testament he says "My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest." (Exodus 33:14). The Lord rescues me from every attack and will bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory for ever and ever (2 Timothy 4:18). God has us! It's not about your way, it's about Yahweh!


The God of peace will soon crush Satan under your feet. (Romans 16:20).

Love God and People!

My Guys

It feels like an eternity since the last time, I took the time to sit and write down the thoughts that ruminate in my think tank. I began doing my grueling, intensive and emotionally draining internship for school down in St. Louis. I have learned how to cling to God in a whole new way. My thinking affects my behavior, my attitude affect the outcome. I teach the process of recovery to a crowd on scapegoats, false hero's, perfectionist, loner, the lost, the sick, the outcasts, the forgotten. I teach recovery to a crowd who are used to criminal thinking behaviors and huge population of brokenness. The work is so hard, its so painful, its so exhausting, it takes every ounce of strength and willpower for my to keep loving the guys i serve, the guys I go to battle for.

My guys remind me that It is not about "me" and "my" internship. It's about them and their recovery. In this I'm not writing any details about specific clients just the general nature of what I have observed in my first month at the treatment site. It's a theme that breaks my heart and only the power of God can restore the brokenness in these guys lives. This world is broken all over but where my guys live it truly is a war zone, its a battle for survival. I'm learning a lot from the inner city and the struggles that my guys have to deal with. But I believe in transformation, I believe in Change instead of Compliance. This entry is not about a certain individual, but composite experience of the general population I work with. I believe in acceptance and I've seen some amazing things among emotional devastation and shattered dreams. The risk is worth it, and teaching this to my guys is tough, because hurt people, hurt people. If my guys want it bad enough they will be able to accomplish anything. When they fall on their faces they are at God's feet. Jesus said to them "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible" Matthew 19:26 NLT.

MY GUYS
My guys have a mean mentality, a persona, a street knowledge that has become a existence embedded in them since birth.
My guys live surrounded by gun shots and garnished wages, back taxes, and child support.
My guys "nod" off because they have consumed China White.
The Water my guys have used does not quench their thirst but causes hallucinations and rage.
My guys worry about colors in their neighborhoods.
My guys hang teddy bears in remembrance of loved ones, friends, hit by bullets from a vehicle slowly driving by without head lights.
My guys now that booming noises in the distance is not fourth of July fireworks.
My guys have been shot at, shot at someone else.
My guys have been hospitalized for gun shot wounds.
My guys have seen their seeds get sniped, pruned and burned.
My guys live with broken windows.
My guys have food stamps.
My guys guys have a criminal mindset and shattered dreams.
My guys sip syrup to escape themselves, not eat it with pancakes.
My guys get arrested for skin tone.
My guys aren't safe behind locked doors in their own homes.
My guys have trouble staring them directly in the face when they leave the porch.
My guys don't see hope.
My guys lose concepts of empathy and replace it with being empty.
My guys are crying on the inside, begging for love, but refuse to show it.
My guys live life with a label. Criminal. Scapegoat. Dope Fiends. Junkies.
My guys smoke Kusch.
My guys sell rocks.
My guys cook fertilizer, ether and battery acid, they glass it and pick it to both stay up and see things.
My guys have withdrawals.
My guys have broken promises and have snowballed their lives to the point where when they look at themselves they see a liar.
My guys have put a pistol to themselves.
My guys know that ice cream trucks at midnight means an eight ball not delicious treats.
My guys buildings are broken and urban blight is the norm.
My guys have no known homeostasis.
My guys fight for street corners.
My guys get initiated to spend their lives in the criminal justice system.
My guys freeze to death.
My guys have Civil Wars of their own north and south.
My guys beg for money at the corners.
My guys sleep on park bench's, wear the same clothes for months.
My guys fight DT's.
My guys starve themselves to consume what the crave, what controls them.
My guys are caught in a rat race, brutally and fundamentally hopeless.
My guys graduate on Friday and get locked up Saturday.
Mu guys have no schooling.
My guys have no jobs.
My guys sell "spit back."
My guys "church" is a 12 pack and some rubbers.
My guys have slept on park bench's, pimped their daughters for psychological lynches and been sent up river for a long sentence.
My guys have false.......pride.


My guys have.....false power.

What my guys need is simple. My guys need GRACE. my guys need love. my guys need to know they are needed. My guys have a hope and a future. The road traveled can be both tricky and trivial. This is a very tough population to work with. Especially when they compare themselves with the teacher. I may not have grown up on the streets or done the "dangerous" drugs but I understand pain and want to help people through it. The people we need to reach out are my guys. God loves them so much and somewhere along the way they were lost. They had their toys taken away, their dreams stepped on, smashed and a dark illusion of lies, drugs and criminal thinking became a prolonged overcast. The sun they see, the hope is looked as being a "square." But as a square you can see the direction you came from and the direction your are going at any point of the object. God lifts us through some of the most challenging moments. He cheers for us in are triumphs and reaches his hand out to us when we are in are trials. He does not give us a hand out but a hand up. We need to stop looking at people as what they did, but see the good in them. The child in them. We all have are inner most child they through experiences and hurts gets lost. Responsibility and adulthood takes its place at the top of the totem pole and we lose the child in us. The sense of wonder is lost and a feeling of doom comes.

I wasn't writing this to glorify the population I work with but to try to see the world through their eyes. I believe the God I say I believe in. I see the change in them. In my month I haven't heard a lot of positive things but they positive things I have heard have been incredible, deep and profound. If you have decided to read this far, please pray for the addicts and alcoholics who are out their fight against the drug, being lied to by the devil and ultimately destroying themselves. Please pray for restoration, a revival in their lives, a change so they can help others change. I'm incredibly selfish (I'll admit it), my Ego centrism is at times bigger than the African Continent. But we have to, have to pray outside of ourselves. Two basic, yet prolific things I have heard in my life is "There is a God, and we are not it." and "It's not about us." Pray for the broken, sick, poor, marginalized, the lost. God has them and we need to have them also.
Grace and peace.

Stranded arounded the island feeling ugly and refreshed.

For those that know me are aware I stopped drinking and using drugs 4 years ago. I never really used drugs on there own because I didn't like the effect. I had to have alcohol to soften me up to the drugs. For me to do a line of coke I would have to be drunk to make it so my alcohol tolerance felt like it was increasing. I liked the joy of mixing the two together to escape the hurting soul that resided in my soul. I was souless, apathetic and angry. I never wanted others to see the "true" me because I didn't want them to run away. If people knew the "true" me they would hate, they would judge, they would never wish to talk to me. The disease of alcoholism consumed me. I became poor.

When I had money I threw it away on shots, something that disappered but made me feel temporarily accepted among people who I do truly care about but can't really relate with anymore. I can't hang with them because I speak a different languge. I have cleaned up and moved on from the "cowboy" wake up. That's wear you dust of your clothes from the night before and say "giddy up" still wearing the nasty clothes from the night before. Teeth green and red and purple and blue. Breath smelling like a dead deer. The idea of looking at a mirror at the hideous beard and dark eyes, the fear of what i saw. I hated the person who stared back, echoed with a conscious drowning in whiskey cokes and bloody marys to cure hangovers. Trading pizzas for booze, surviving off of tylenol and the water seemed to stir the stomach making it feel like a monster truck rally at the Metrodome. Neil Diamond's "Soolaimoo" spinning webs in the dome from the karoke event the night before. At times to drunk to walk home, to scared to leave. Avoiding responsibility at a parlor making tomato disks and swindling deals with the drivers. Ignoring the cries around, the comments around thanksgiving about smelling like alcohol or having an aunt ask "is he still drunk...or is he hungover?" Not only is she an aunt but a god-mother. A nurse and a loving caretaker. I've written about this before. I remember the abuse both physical and emotional directed toward a mother, desperate to climb out of her out self-pity and quenching alcohol. I turned to punk music screaming "I want the airwaves and trying to find any glimpse of a role model to have. Glorifying the artists who did the most drugs and drunk the most booze and had sex with the as many girls as possible.

When i drank i became powerful, absolute and humorous to the point I became cocky and prideful and it caries over. I love to make people laugh and i was going to have people laugh by any means necessary. I was never secure with me as me. I always wanted to be something different, i felt that i deserved some recognition. Some feeling of security without putting forth any effort. I abused my mom, the woman who i am most connected with until the day i die. Sure someday i may get married but she nutured me. As an alcoholic i was able to have some make shift relationships that should have not lasted as long as they did. I stayed for comfort and for fear of change. Feeling like a revolutionary smoking drugs while listening to radical music. Taking my anger out on people, my family. Hurting my mom and beloved sister.

This is called generational sin, its something that has been around my family for years. I don't want to have my nieces (Isabella and Adelina) see me ever drunk. Someday if the Lord blesses me with a family and children by the grace of God, i would love to be a sober father and a mentor to my kids. I'm not saying my father wasn't and isn;t a mentor but my childhood had me modeling behaviors of parents who liked to party, they love to party now but alcohol is not the primary care provider :) Everyone can benefit from the serenity prayer. (God grant me the serenity to accpet the things i cannot change, the courage to change the things i can and the wisdom to know the difference.) I can't say that my relationship with alcohol and drugs have been all bad though, i;m able to recognize the times of celebration and the people who i met, my circle of friends were not bad people or harmful or toxic, ive been blessed my entire life to have the greatest friends ever.

Ever since i moved to Minnesota, i've had some of the greatest friends and i countinue to have amazing friends where i'm at here in Missouri. I have the same temptations as i did in Minnesota, except for the liqour is sold in the grocery store not next to it . I walk passed the colored bottles, some old friends come to mind when i see a bottle of windsor (RIP Pinkse), other bottles bring memories (jagermeister with my spraypaint crew), and the deadliest person friend whiskey and coke always talks to me when i see his devilish grin. The booze says "this time will be different, or with us she will like you and change her heart...liquid courage massaglia." The alcohol is absolutely against me and i have no control of the outcome of my 1st drink. The problem now is the feelings that linger, I get a job (i want a drink), i get a internship at a treatment center (i want a drink), i see a pretty girl (i want a drink), she says no (i want a drink), a friend gets diagnosed with cancer (i want a drink), a family member dies (i want a drink), im at church worshipping God (i want a drink), i'm written this letter (i want a drink). Here's where i go though, i don't stay in those last "i want" attitudes because after putting the cork in the bottle and getting a cleaned up look and attitude, plus being washed in the blood of Jesus and "doing the next right thing" I can live a productive, loving life. I truly love being around people now and sharing life and living life with them. I'm motivated to be a better person and am learning more about living free and clean, moving daily, and staying in the traffic lanes without having to pick up or bend anymore elbows. Everyone has a testimony because everyone's been tested. I wrote this for my Isabella, Amber, Molly, Megan, Sharie, Sam, and Carol. love my fam, thanks for the chat!

Come to me, all who are weary and burdened and i will give you rest, take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30).

Keep coming back.....

God will fight the battles

City lights is gone, over and finished. The only remaining remembrance of the experience is folded into the file cabinet. Thinking meets believing, my faith meets my failures and at times reluctantly and void of resentment my failures meet my faith. Song birds of a chromatic palette cascade chimes and notes of what seems like archaic hymns. The music a variety of guitars and gospels, venturing with Steve Perry's journey through a few friends playing Disney characters. There was music among us, there were always sparrows singing for a man who sacrificed his life so we could make some sense of the impenetrable work he did. There was laughter with light and sadness with salt. A variety of meals from around the globe, feet were shod and ready for battle. They arrived as strangers and left as family. Some worked with children and became overwhelmed, learning a new way to rely on a father. Some became menders for broken souls, all became intentional (just a bit more) for the love of the father. They were taught by biblical scholars who sacrificed top dollars to love us as children and to honor the father. We harvesters plant crops and let the seeds develop. We met with new influence and inspired one another. We cried together, we broke bread together, we grew angry with one another.

Citylights never leaves you, it is with you forever. Any experience God gives us cannot be taking away. When I graduated college my grandfather told me "they can never take this away from you." I have no idea "who" they are but graduation, sobriety, citylights, accepting the truly free gift of Christ, my love for people even when it hurts and is hard cannot be taken away from me. When I die, I die as someone who has both successes and failures. Wanting to be a testimony in others lives and not a title. I remember for my character, not my currency. I want to learn more about Yahweh and not Your way.

I am here now after the music stops and the city lights experience is shown on social networks to remind us of our union. I listen to Janelle Monae and wonder if I can get in her head, her genius has captured me. I'm taking another day off, sitting on address to my old summer class I helped teach. A painful mix of broke financially and spiritually finding it harder to rely on him. Wondering if the last minute is coming so God can scoop me up. It feels like the bottom, i feel stripped and surely exposed. I am vulnerable, avoidable and easily anxious. I feel like a lost face in the crowd, attempting to hide from God again thinking I have angst and the elusiveness of a seal. Stuck in my muck with anticipation of defeat but knowing the marvelous light can penetrate the darkness distilling in my soul. It's an interesting portion of time right now. I am feeling so lazy, so empty, so lost...

During skit team practice we were blindfolded and had to fully rely on the circle that was surrounding us for safety. It feels awkward, daunting and small but slowly it becomes comfortable, easy and no longer difficult. God fights for us, especially when we fight ourselves. The hardest thing in my opinion is not the detox of someone who is addicted to the drug but the feelings that effect the person afterwards. Whether in the valley or climbing the mountain. The urge to use is there, the drink taste sweet and taste buds mimic past drinks. The brain tells the heart to drink, to celebrate or to mourn. The drink is a buffer for feelings. God will fight the battle, but you can avoid speed bumps by consuming the metallic feel of a gin and tonic. That is where the reliance has to play a prevalent role in our outcome. The feeling God has your back and your front has be be both a constant fraction and a constant rate. The ideal that "God will fight your battles"...ok, when, has got to be submerged and destroyed. I need to believe and trust in God more and more daily. I do miss a lot, A LOT of people but God is here. He works in every single one of us from the crunch to the smooth, from the wide to the narrow, from the rich to the poor. God will fight our battles!

"Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom, teaching and
admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs,
singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord."
Colossians 3:16

KEEP SWIMMING! KEEP SWIMMING!!

peace, love and soup!

Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow; Don't walk behind me, I may not lead; Walk beside me, and just be my friend.
Albert Camus

AMEN!

valleys and mountains

It has been an incredibly long time since I have wanted to write anything down. I have recently finished up with school with a Bachelor's of Science degree with an emphasis on chemical dependency counseling. I haven't been to inspired lately. I feel lazy, apathetic and unresponsive to my surroundings. The environment doesn't provide the same zealous thrill that it once possessed. I am trying to hard and forgetting a major ingredient.

To simply love God and love people with the same spontaneity as a child. I am a child of God but now feel like an adult. I want child-like faith. I am also about the performance and ignore the brevity of children of the first days I became a christian. I have been softened by the books about social justice and human advocacy. I am learning about the hunger pangs of the world while I eat a foot long sub and waste water washing dishes. I forget about the key essentials in this life and that is living it. Since I finished school I have been a lazy television zombie. I try to convince myself to read or clean but lack the motivation. It always come back to that "m" word. The varying inspiring that gets a couch potato motivated, I get small glimpses of "do it for Jesus" or "if you study the Bible more..she'll like you more." It even goes beyond spiritual.

Paul writes in the Corinthians about how are bodies are compared to temples and that we were bought at a price (1 Corinthians 6:19-20) and yet I am treating my as an amusement park or a demolition derby. I hate my physical appearance and justify my laziness and self-image by the outside of who I am. I want change but lack the motivation to change. I use the same excuse when it comes to being a follower (not just a believer) of Jesus Christ. It's not about me though and my personal conquest to find just that....purpose. It goes beyond this selfish self-hatred and I no longer have to isolate myself from the sins of my life. I suffer from all the seven deadly sins.

They blend nicely like a sinful spice rack in a chefs kitchen. I am in a valley and I have the ability to hide my true feelings behind a Freudian defense mechanism that makes it easier for me to cope with myself. I am among the many who fear closeness because of the underlining equation that "if you really knew me you would not be friends with me." To me it happens with a lot of people. It is beneath the surface and exists within us from womb to tomb....sin. A deadly and filthy three letter word that is cunning and deceptive. It exists in all of us and we need to repent and turn the page on issues that destroy us. I'm not going to point the finger at others for their sins and cast the first stone here. I can't imagine God has way of minimizing or prioritizing sins. He hates all acts of sins and we reek of it. I don't know much about sin but I no that I am no longer living a lie that I tell myself repeatedly. That I'm the most important person in my life. I'm not and i need to be defined and reminded to serve others and I will feel better. For the longest time I thought about my pain from my past and spent the last few months as graduation came and went that through Christ I can achieve great things and need to remain teachable. My grandfather told me that he is in his seventies and he hasn't even come close to "accomplishing the answers" but he has faith. I'm tired, its late and I have to pray.
I love you reader!
Grace and peace
Daniel C. Massaglia

Final Large Group

Today was a day of reflection, a year ago I became a christian and started attending a group called Intervarsity. The group met on Thursday and shared experiences with the gospel and also sang their hearts out for the Lord. I found peace within the group. I was even asked to live with the staff workers and experience living in community with them. I have seen so much growth in myself and am now witnessing an amazing gift of seeing new creations blossom before my eyes. It's been an incredible year with a lot of laughs and tears. I almost feel like this is a year book entry. I have a real tough time with transitions and am scared to death of if I will choose my like over Jesus.

I love writing about God and my struggling, rocky, relationship with him but question my motives at times. What are my motives sometimes. When I see people, do I see Jesus or someone that could potentially bother me? Honestly I'm not to confident in my reactions. I want to be more welcoming and with the love I have seen through the people who attend large group I have seen passion to move me into tears and at the same time find the child inside who hid in fear. I learned who I was through the continuing beauty of the relationships acquired. I arrived at large group tonight praying for it not to end, begging God to keep this day going, keeping these amazing people close. I become exposed in this group, it has become a safe haven, a beacon of hope when I am in traitorous waters. I began to understand the love story that God has for his people. Because of God, my sister was able to calm her own hatred for God. Because of God's love I was able to connect to people who I was once afraid to have responding with. Because of him, I love others without expecting anything in return (that in itself is a battle, which I can't win. Unless i trust in him).

I am very unclear about my future and am struggling with my decision making for my future. I have never graduated from college before and am really unsure about what the future has next for me. I would like to do my internship in a different state, however my niece, my mother and my sister needs me to be apart of their lives. I want to protect them and take care of them, see them grow and share love. I also want to discover my own freedoms and fall on the ground and rely fully on God to provide the words, take control of my actions and direct my life.

During this last large group, I began to reflect on the love that was shared and the sacrifice people made. For any reader who needs prayer or needs to talk please approach me. I love coffee and also want to learn more from other people. I may talk a lot but I need practice listening. It is something I struggle dearly with and want to change. I'm exhausted trying to figure things out on my own. I have been in complete control looking for this internship and have grown angry and frustrated that it hasn't materialized yet. It was encouraging to see all the new faces and the great gifts and salt that God has brought to the world.

Thanks Minnesota State University Mankato's Intervarsity, Thanks Break Away 09, thanks Citylights, thanks to my high school christian friends who showed love when I rejected it, thanks to God is loving and uses others to guide, grow and encourage. I love you all but he loves you SO much more. Be blessed! Keys to the kingdom!!

Love your Brother in Christ
Daniel

"I'll Pray for You"

It was a great class but halfway through I got lost, as always. I always get lost at some point in class. It doesn't matter which class I get lost in. It happens. Today I was thinking about relationships. I'm learning more about the criterion of alcohol and drug dependence described in the DSM IV-TR. The book describes two important criteria for diagnosing someone also dependent. The first is tolerance (needing more to get a desired effect) and withdrawal (yearning or feeling pain without the drug). These two are the ones that are looked at as important to becoming a counselor for diagnosing someone as an alcoholic. It really helps the insurance companies by putting a name to it. A label, a stamp, or a distinction.

I was thinking about the works themselves, tolerance is another way of saying enduring or having endurance. Withdrawal reminds me of walking through a desert longing or thirsting for water. Withdrawal is desperation. Withdrawal is being stuck in the ocean surrounded by sharks. Withdrawal is the tugging at the heart at the ambitious treats of pure evil. The need to "feel" on a different wave length as others. I am an alcoholic, diagnosed in July 2006. I am a drug addict diagnosed at the same time. I recognize the disease model and understand the beginning of the stepping lifestyle to happiness. If you do not know about this lifestyle as for it to be explained by Bill W's friends. Stay persistent, many exist! I am labeled and recorded as an alcohol dependent and embrace that as who I am.
I also consider myself a recovering christian, more than a new creation. I became a follower/believer in Christ at a conference in Brainerd alongside younger christian people. With the symptoms diagnosed by counselors on the subtance abusers should we have both symptoms as Christians? Dependence with pray and avoidant of withdrawal. What about building a tolerance or endurance towards prayer? I struggle with prayer especially when I say "I'll pray for yeah." Truthfully...nope. That hurts. It actually sounds more like a mafia solider saying "forget about it." while eating a cannoli. I'll pray for you is tough to deal with. It's a simple request and amazingly important as a spiritual connection which I once took as important part of my faith, but lately neglected.

Praying, lately is the last thing I want to do because I'm comfortable, selfish, and afraid of the motives. I refuse to pray because of the conscious thoughts that I am not praying right. I was in a bible study today and a dear friend commented on how prayer is important but the second something bad happens in his life, he thinks about being angry at God. I refuse to go to God with things and it hurts in the long run and....yep the short run as well. Unfortunately "i'll pray about it"is a christianese (term stolen from the book peppermint filled pinatas) way of saying "no" to a situation. I'm not saying that i won't pray but when I say "i'll pray about it" its unfortunetly a guarantee propositions of prayer actually materalizing.

Another close friend of mine and I had a conversation about the this topic and he has committed to "praying about it" on the spot instead of doing what I did. "Sure i'll pray for you but not now i'm to busy living my life." AWWWWWWW!!! I am so arrogant, but not alone in the fact that I don't actually take time away from me "busy" day to say a few words of prayer.

I'm so filled with self-will run riot. At times I refuse to actually let God take control of my life (lately most times). I do not let God guide me. In situations where I am forced to let God take control of the outcome it's scarey, uncomfortable, and sometimes difficult. "I'll pray for you" if it benefits me. "I'll pray for you" only if I remember and it's important and attractive to me. "I'll pray for you but first I have some sinning to do." "I'll pray for you" if you pray for me. I'll actually completely forget to pray for you and get upset because things are not going my way. The agency said no, she doesn't like me, my grades are not good enough, no one loves me, my way is not working, my love is shattered, my heart is.......

I know withdrawal, i know dependence from a negative perspective. I'm running into a transparent wall over and over again. I pray for you now, I wanna scream so loud for you, I hurt for you now. I want less of me and more Christ. Withdrawal is really a daunting feeling, a longing for Christ to guide our hearts. Whats the point sometimes? In America we have most of our needs met and our safe. We have diagnosis, treat, and cure. Faith becomes meaningless when we try to scienctifically find all the answers, lets depend on God. Do we need God? I think I do, and that my first problem is I think God and don't let the Holy Spirit take over and feel the purity and love flow through me. I learned a lot more about caring for other people through becoming a follower. I want to build a relationship with God and his people (ALL his people).

My ego and feeling on insecurity gets in the way. I spend a lot of time reading and listening to sermons, trying to engage with his people, and briefly pray silently but sometimes feel as real as the Easter bunny hiding eggs. I have withdrawals from God, but God is not a drug, I not need him as a "fix." God provides an amazing feeling to my life and I am trying to stay dependent on him and avoid withdrawals.

Love.

Break from the action

I haven't blogged much, I have been taking a much needed break from writing my thoughts on this lovely gift the internet provides called a blog. I usually write about my thoughts on Christ and the nature of Christian life mostly from a quasi-left wing approach. I overlook the righteouness and preach about the social justice topics and spend little time on the action myself. I spend a lot of time voicing change and loving your neighbor and struggle with practicing it myself. I get angry easily but I rarely react with anger, I get frustrated with myself at times, and distract myself from what I want to accomplish. I'm tired...the neighbors dog barks at odd hours of the night, I daydream about distant lands and solid loving relationships with others. Those who are close to me know I basically live for laughter, it makes my day when I see a smile and know I may have been apart of it. The best is when a person has a genunie "hard" laugh. one that possibly bring joy to the other persons day.

My anger usually is a self-critical type-cast orientation of pain. I then attempt to mold that pain into something humourous. I try to take a jovial approach to life, I laugh at myself all time (sometimes I'm the only one laughing). I do enjoy a good laugh. I don't know where the phrase comes from but "laughter, is pains medicine." I recently (today) gave a presentation on ways to raise a persons self-esteem. I wanted to sound like a person working for a pyramid sceme. The power of persuasion! I want people to truly be happy, I want to see people smile. The beautiful thing about facial expressions is the universality of them. Smiling is truly contagious. I'm learning more and more that life is simple, living it hard at times.

I'm a arrogant and egotistical person just like everybody else but the beauty of awareness and application can be transformational. Many of the people I hang out with are Christians who try to love God and love people and are believers in Jesus, the following part is the hardest part. We agree on that note. Theres a great part in the Bible, where Paul is addressing the Romans about spiritual gifts, find those gifts and use them (i'm a skeptic when it comes to speaking in tongues though).

I wanted this one to be shorter then my usual posts. love ya!
Try going beyond the CNNs or the FOX News. Check out a newspaper from a different country and find out what is really going on. I was thinking about when I was in St. Louis last summer. We were blessed with the chance to meet and eat with Iraqi refugees. In the United States, there is a pretty lopsidded ideal that people in the Middle East hate us, so we in turn hate them. We discussed with this family how it was wrong and we only see what the media potrays to us. They were not anti-american at all and wanted to voice there story.

Make friends with an international student. I have had the priviledge of meeting a group of friends from the Southern portion of Sudan and have talked with them about the Darfur genocide by the militant Janjaweed, but there is a disconnect between the south and the north. They avoid the North, but obviously care. I am grateful for their testimonies and expressions but i wanted to meet with someone from the North. I met with a friend who introduced me to a guy who needed needed help editting and piecing together an independent study assignment. He happened to be from the north and is writing a piece on Darfur. I am blessed to have met him because he can now share with me his testimony and thoughts on what is going on there.

Who needs a hug? I'm getting good at it.

Truthfully

Truthfully, my attitude is cunning right now. I am in a true transition from ideology and theology. A transition from this world and an actual "just world." I'm living vicarious through somebody else and refusing to recognize the social disorganization that gentle thrusts a middle finger expresses my ideals. I'm twisted and tattered as I try to wait for my eyes to adjust to this world I have comfortably been apart of. My life is a cave, a dark hour passes, one after another. It never let's me cease yearning for social situations where I express confidence. I surely have no trouble being the wonderful center of the universe when i am around people I have developed timely and precise faith in, but its the strangers, the people with the same pleasure and attention seeking behavior that I have conjured up. I try to impress overly to the point of wondering "what does that person really think of me." When I'm by myself I give it my all, I'm the greatest show on turf.

When in a crowd I experience social loafing and let others carry a majority of the burden. I experience a numbing of my mindfulness and become reluctant to help others. I'm easily amused and even more easily attracted to harm. I use people without even knowing it. I have trust issue, not from past relationship creating that behavior but just in general. It is hard for me to get close to people, I have a select group of friends that really know me and know what goes on in my head. My passion is making people laugh, I absolutely love it and it makes me feel good, making others feel good. Other people know it as well, i live for others smiles. There is something amazing about pure joy and love for others. I care way to much about myself and spent hours being jealous of others. I am at an where others are already married, some divorced, many with kids, full-time jobs, others take vacations to exotic lands, others can drink normal and express smiles with neon lights and cocktails held in there hands with a kung-fu grip. This story started out as some of my thoughts do, random and prismatic.

I have valley days and mountain days and tonight I am experiencing a bit of both, i struggle looking down to the ground and see if I am slipping down the slope or if I am leaving an imprint of traction as I ascend to the proverbial summit. I am about to move into new place, with new people, interesting challenges, and new environment. I'm very excited about it but I'm tired. I'm tired because of my expectations at times, I expect a woman to just fall head over heels for me without doing any work. Maybe she's out there and I stare at her blankly, flat and expressionless. I had a good discussion about forcing the issue. I'm a collective mush of sensitivity with a hint of nice, fear is the appetizer. The way to my heart is through my stomach, my close friends now that, i am a huge fan of trying new and exciting foods. I lack the trust as mentioned earlier to trust that God has a plan for me and everything is going to be okay, if I let God feed me and take care of me. That part of my life is something I am excited about as far as moving, I am moving into a very close and dear couple and their daughter. They happen to be very spiritual and are trying to further the kingdom. They have asked me to live in their attic and we both may have been begrudged about it. They were inspired by the story about helping and welcoming. We need this, we need community, to be the crutch for someone who is in need. I am truly grateful to have them in my life and I pray that we can develop a even more wholesome and loving relationship. As far as the crutch for one another did you know that the majority of people would not help if someone asking is different then us? A black man asking for help or in need of a cell phone to call for assistance is less likely to receive that help from somebody who is white. I'm not saying that people don't help one another and this is always the case, but it happens. We need each other to survive. Love does not discriminate, love has no segregation.

One of the saddest things it we can learn our prejudice in the one place we seek refugee from it, Our churches can subtle (or even overtly) training racism. Love is not color-blind by any means but rather the empowering construct of ethnicity. In America, the major religion is Christianity, which encompasses a vast majority of subgroups and denominations. In America, we welcome the stranger to an extent. We will let the refugee in but have absolutely nothing to do with them. We refuse to engage them, get upset when we hear a "exotic" language that is not English, and scoff and categorize "them." We refuse acceptance and love for others place them in a warehouse, never knowing or seeing their culture. Never seeing there smiles. We have pockets of reconciliation and say that we have eliminated racism, erased it and brushed off the eraser shaving from society. We celebrate diversity by taking culture and adding an American twist to it. We turn something like "Chinese" food and "Americanize" it, then say we our multicultural. We place ethnicity in pockets.

I live in a rural town south of Minneapolis, Minnesota and we have a growing Sudanese and Somali population in our town but the majority of our town is white. I have no relationship with the people in this town, the people over looked and it pains me to actually say it and be honest at times, I am just as guilty as others and I say I don't want to know. "May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me". Jesus prayed this in John 17:23, are we seeing this unity right now?" I don't think so, we become so comfortable in feeling safe, in a Gospel that skimmed, the safe portions of the Bible taught in our Sunday best. It's sad to admit, I mentioned about another uncomfortable. It pains me to be so vain, vile and ignorant. "The true Gospel is a call to self-denial, not a call to self-fulfillment." John MacArthur.

I do feel the social loafing and the view that we live in a "just world at times, but i also know that we have so much pride and if we make mistakes we, struggle to own up to it and confess it. We don't seek the kingdom first, or even seek refugee in a God who wants to take care you us and wants us to go to him with challenges. He, who is without sin, cast the first stone (John 8:7). I began this script with self-loathing and confusion thoughts. I do love to make people laugh and enjoy seeing people smile. It's a universal expression, when some is happy they smile. Even if they hide it behind their hands. When we show an altruistic heart towards someone, anyone I believe it makes God smile. We deserve the flames though for the way we treat others. We are giving something we don't deserve. For Christ's love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and raised again. (2 Corintinians 5:14-15). I don't need to change myself before accepting the Lord, but I need to let God change me. We mean the world to Jesus, even though we hate ourselves. Grace through faith, from the inside out. It's no through are title but are testimonies. (Tony Campolo).

I am going through a transition but I don't feel lost in it. I am struggling with issues of loneliness and want to meet some to love me back and it is a tug of war between my time and God's, don't put to much money on me, even though I have so much pride i my head could float and lead a parade. I'm waiting to share my faith with someone else and welcoming the stranger. I wish instead of packing our neighbors from various fear induced countries into sardine apartments, then ignoring them on the street corner that we would treat them as a child who gleefully shows off his room. When kids show off what they have they are so proud of it, they have so much joy in having others see it. I do trust in God but struggle to lean on his understanding instead of mine. I'm impulsive and jump the gun on decisions instead of taking things to God. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:5-7). I don't do that, I act on impulse and get stuck in a prison of insecurities, struggle with belief and toss and turn on a sweaty pillow. I am anxious, i take small requests to God, but hold on to the larger ones.

I am guilty of a lot of social issues; I am guilty of all sorts of sins. Nelson Mandela suffered a lot of pain and hardship before he was the President in South Africa from 1994-1999. In his inaugural speech he stated "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness which frighten us most. We ask ourselves, "Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous? Actually who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make the manifest glory to God that is within us. It's not just in some of us. It's in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

Trust in God...C.S. Lewis once said "Though our feelings come and go, God's love for us does not." I fear the unknown, wrestle with social issues, and feel jealous of people around me, I'm a competitive christian who needs to be reminding that we are all equal. I seek attention and approval from other people. I refuse to let God's infinite power and wisdom guide me. I become the wayfarer guide navigating a ship into hazardous waters. Alone and empty. I turn God into something diminutive, and i become a slave to the world. God can mobilize the manumit of our slavery. If we simply allow him too. But I shrink God to the size of a Pez dispenser. Prayers are received only when I lift the head up and eat the delights. Pray for reconciliation, justice, righteousness and hope. give up everything to follow, put down selfish acts and join the Great Commission, be ready to screw up over and over and over again and have God love show the way, he shows love regardless how messed up we are. "Why is it everything that is Bad for you make you feel so good?" Artist: Flame Song: Bad Ain't Good.

The Prettiest Doll, She’s Ever Seen.

“Isabella was breathtaking and worth all of the bad in the world” my sister Amber


October 4, 2009. It was 5 months ago when she was brought into the world. She weighed about 6 pounds 9 ounces of pure bliss. She was twenty inches long. My sister was pouting because Isabella was taking away for awhile. Isabella was premature 5 weeks early and Amber (my sister) didn’t get to hold her for very long because they had to run various tests to make sure she was okay. She waited for two hours. When she did get to hold her she thought “she is the prettiest doll, she’s ever seen.” That was the same thing my mom said about her when Amber was born. Amber said “Isabella was breathtaking and worth all of the bad in the world” She had the prettiest red red lips and still does. She looked like she had lipstick on. I had thought she had the face of a forty year cab driver it turns out I was wrong. She was so tiny and embodied perfection. Once Amber got to hold her she stared at Isabella for about an entire week. The doctors kept taking Isabella away to run various tests. Isabella was jaundice and couldn’t maintain her own body temperature, she lost too much weight. They kept her under the warmer the first night and Isabella got to wear cool looking sun glasses. She was so light and so loveable. I truly believe in love at first sight now. “Nothing else in the world matters only your baby” Amber says. She received so much love and attention, gifts galore. I was told that Isabella i going to have an amazing sense of humor because of the people she will be surrounded by. Before this time Amber, our mother and I were going through a lot of pain in our life. I will not express what was going on in their lives but they had struggles and the same lack of self-worth that I had, my mother said that she loves to raise children and wished that she could have a baby in her life. After that came the greatest earthly gift in my life, Isabella Marie Anton. Here’s my story of what I was feeling leading up to Isabella’s birth and how I feel now. LUX MUNDI (Light of my world)


She redirected a feeling that I had during the time of my life. My faith was in question; my life was so hard to live in at the time. I had felt attacked by a spiritual bankruptcy and felt like I was driving directly into a black hole. I started to struggle and even told my sister that I wanted to kill myself. She was empathic, scared and told me that I should get help. I refused to listen to her and started to feel worse. I came to her at the middle of the night one time and expressed the feelings of self loathing and anger towards the world. Christianity was nothing a worthless life to live. I compared my pain to the Lord who loves the sinners who defiled and desecrated his name. I don’t match up at all but I get worth through him now. At the time I was suicidal, empty and going on life as a raging “dry drunk.” I was refusing to align my life with the spiritual necessity that I lived by. I needed help, just in the same way I needed help the day I gave up drugs and alcohol, just in the same way I needed to move out of a toxic situation, just like I needed help in rebuilding a relationship with my father. When you no longer have all the answers, you feel one foot tall, walking underneath everyone. I feared for my sobriety and was on a verge of drinking again. I was planning to drink, having a premeditated relapse. I began no longer caring about myself and others around me. I started neglecting prayer and meditation.
That’s the great joy in family; I once again scared the life out of my family with my anger. When I used to drink, I didn’t have my license till I turned 23 years old. I would stumble over to my sister’s house around bar close. I was dating a woman who loved me but I didn’t trust. I would begin to cry, I would lose myself in my sisters arms. I was so broken and lost, I constantly told her to drive me to the bridge so I could jump off. I was so empty, I was so empty. I never blamed anybody for how I felt but I was alone and I thought the cards that I was dealt was the losing hand and that God was the dealer. It was his fault my family was poor. It was his fault my life was in shattered pieces, it was his fault that I never felt love for people around me; it was God’s fault that I had no faith in anything. No one wants to be an Eeyore , you want to be a Tigger (Randy Pausch, Last Lecture).

I wanted to die and I was heading that way in a swift drunken fashion, especially after I got my license and began drinking and driving. I was not much of an addict though. I did enjoy using cocaine though; it made it so I could consume alcohol more and continue a night of “clowning around.” I lost myself when I drank, because I didn’t have to face myself. I thought is everybody wasted and is anybody free from bondage.


One evening I was feeling ashamed of myself after I failed to ask this girl out on a date. I was not attending meetings at all, my sponsor was not being used, and I was avoiding friends and isolating myself. I was being overwhelmed by so fear; I understood what it must be like to be in quicksand.


All these feelings lead up to treatment, which was the best decision at that time in my life. Just before Isabella was born was when I went to Amber’s house to express my pain. The very same pain that I felt when I was drinking, the very same feelings only at this time my breath doesn’t reek like liquor and my memory was a naked highway. I had the opportunity to feel all of this emotion, pain and acute. The two lines where connected. The two pains connected. Jesus didn’t die on the cross alone, he had two thieves on each side die next to him, and one man mocked him. Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us! (Luke 23:39). The other transformed his feelings towards Jesus said “Today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:43). I felt that when I became a Christian a year ago at a conference for Intervarsity campus fellowship. I felt moved by the Holy Spirit and began to cry tears of true forgiveness for the way I lived before my walk started with Christ. My life has been moved into a new direction and I want to share this life with others.


Even at times there is light in our darkest hour, if we hold on to the raft in the chaotic waters of our lives. The turmoil and vicious tyrant called negative emotions crashes upon us. We have to have hoped that life has some meaning, some purpose driving us to greener pastures. It goes beyond us. The gifts that are provided for us, we obviously our not meant to always have negative emotions otherwise we would all be miserable and the anti-depressant pharmaceutical companies would be rich (this is meant to be funny; everybody knows they have enough money to collectively buy half of the continent of Africa). I believe God gave us Isabella to save our lives. Our worries haven’t completely disappeared but Isabella is a remedy to the hurts around us. Lately, seeing her smile, talk to objects, grab at things, hearing her giggle and seeing her twinkle in her eyes brings me to weep pure joy. All our joys become complete and we feel a universal feeling of goodness when she is in our arms. My sister is an amazing mother; she is revived and fueled with love that I hadn’t seen since she was a younger child. My mother has a smile that glows and could illuminate an entire city block now when she is with Isabella and for me I remain humbled and have a life to protect and love as much as I can. I had a discussion awhile ago that could be a little morbid but it worried me after I almost got broadsided by a semi-truck on the highway. I could have died, instantly no questions asked. It worried me, what stories would Amber tell about me if I was to die.

This life is so fragile and special and we need to embrace the present so we can protect the future. When looking into the eyes of children you can see Jesus. My grandmothers favorite bible verse is “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. (Mark 10:14) I love my family and understand a little more about God loving us, wanting to protect us, see us walk and fall and get back up, only to fall again. I’m learning more about dependence on a God who loves us and wants a relationship with us. We are also to love each other as a body. For just as watch of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, each member belongs to all the others (Romans 12:4,5).


I believe more about God sending a son to the world he created to teach us righteousness, defeat death and give us eternal life through his body and blood, grace and mercy. For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, that whoever believes may have eternal life. (John 3:16) A gift that we humans have, besides our enormous brains, vast curiosity, intricate circulatory system, enigmatic charisma, and our ability to fall faster than a toddler on a slip and slide; is the gift of eternal life through Jesus.

So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith. (Galatians 3:26) Isabella continues to grow and teach us, challenge us and smile and giggle at us much like we need to do in our acts of faith and worship. Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to God and he will come near to you (James 4:7). We are all no different in our faith than she is all growing and evolving as children. Thank you God for giving us Isabella Marie Anton, she is a blessing for all of us! Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. (2 Peter 4:7) It makes me want to sing Away in a manger, no crib for his bed, the little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head, the stars in the sky looked down where he lay, the little Lord Jesus, asleep in the hay. Thank you!


“We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But if that drop was not in the ocean, I think the ocean would be less because of that missing drop.”-Mother Teresa

“Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul.” John Muir

Which Horse to Bet on?

I advanced my feelings today, i was told I had a listening problem. Not a bid deal I thought at the time. I was wrong I need to pay closer attention to other people. Let anyone who has ears listen (Matthew 11:15) I am second to them. I am not above other people by any means. I struggle to recognize my behavior of inattentiveness while I am in the act of doing. It's disrespectful though and selfish. An body want to split a slice of humble pie and listen to Johnnie Rodgers? I need to listen to God when inattentiveness rears its ugly head. Listen to me, O Jacob, and Israel, whom I called: I am He; I am the first, and I am the last. (Isaiah 48:12)I need to focus on what others are saying am improve my skills as a listener and seek others in time of need. Fools think their own way is right, but the wise listen to advice.
(Proverbs 12:15)You must understand this, my beloved: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger. (James 1:19).

I'm currently at a coffee shop during decaffeinated tea, peppermint flavored. It's delicious and warm. If its decaf tea, it's called tea cafe. I am forced to listen to some musician who could make serious noise at the Lilith Fair. I'm not to impressed with her sound though, her voice would some better if I consumed NyQuil and was working at a mattress shop. I haven't yet found that one true emotion to describe her, i couldn't fall in love with her. I went to a psychology conference today and managed to comprehend a small portion of it. Once the speaker went into met analysis or psychometric, i could have been a participant for a sleep study. Most were behavioral psychologist, which i repeat most were behavioral psychologist, and again most were behavioral psychologist. I need to be more like the behavioral psychology theory of reinforcement in my life, especially when it comes to pray. I don't pray enough is a common excuse among many Christians and I am in the boat (with my pride at times I'm steering it also), There's a line in a song "I give my life to follow, everything I believe in...."(Hilsong "Mighty To Save") except when I have errands to run, except when I am around a certain crowd where my religious beliefs makes me the minority, except for when I'm caught up in mental slavery and selfish acts of the heartless. My very dear friend recently wrote "The Bible also says to "pray always," or "at all times, pray;" but this sort of early morning prayer, the silent kind, the secluded kind, the separated from all but God kind is something our souls desperately need." He has my against the ropes with that one, and I couldn't even fathom doing this. The longest I go with prayer tops at 30 minutes 27-28 just silence and my head is a remote of other activities. My prayers at times consists of plenty of awkward silences, the attention span of an ADHD kid at a Chucky Cheese and acts of spiritual instant gratification (God gimme that toy now or ME, ME ME). No reinforcement in my prayers.

I should be studying right now for an social psychology exam but I can't get her out of my head. She has been there for awhile. She has grace and attractiveness that muse me to achieve and be confident in groups but shy when we are alone together. I haven't been physically attracted to someone other than myself for a long time. The problem is that the her is a they. It's aggravating. But I'm glad that the Lord is my rock and not Jello, transparent and slimy, quick to fall through ones fingers and end up on the kitchen floor.

It's a struggle for mankind though. Cognitively we see certain beauties in others and cannot decipher others. That's not just selecting physical attraction. It encompasses all sorts of beauty. We have phrases like "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" "Beauty is only skin deep" The truth is if we are all created in the image of God, then we are all beautiful. I haven't met someone who is 100% satisfied with themselves and their appearance (i don't know any narcissists or saints). I don't feel that it's a gender issue either, it is a mental issue though. We see ourselves in a false lens and the media plays the role of the ultimate authority and behavioral psychologist instead of our Maker. Commericals tell us we are worthless and happiness is found in products. We all apply some kind of makeup to hide our identity, we pray for a different appearance or we neglect praying and treat our bodies like the inside of a dump truck or an amusement park instead of a temple.

I'm nothing near perfection, at times I can't stand the way I look. I feel so fat (because I eat in the same quantity of a Hobbit), I don't like my face, I hate my height at times (once again Hobbit) I don't like my stomach (i used to joke that I have the figure of a bowling pin or a light bulb) and etc. I wonder if Lady Gaga is our generation's Richard Simmons, because every song I hear of hers makes me want to dance.

I need to learn acceptance, not a simple task or a tall order either. God made this whole world and everything in it, gave us free will and saves lives all the times. I'm here talking about physical appearance and self loathing. I neglect God, like I neglect listening to other people when they talk. God and I have tug-of-war contests for what is the next right thing to do. We learn that in AA "to just do the next right thing." To "keep it simple and to let things go." They are simple ways to achieve a new and rewarding sobriety. I need to try to ask God to mold my mind, not so much my physique.I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart
and wait for the LORD. (Psalm 27:13-14). I am really in a new transition in life and am working at listening, loving and walking humble with God (you want to come with, hold my hand?).

Under or Above The Staircase

God didn’t come for the perfectly sane, the perfectly esteemed, or the fully healed. God came for the broken, weak, sick, and imprisoned by pain. Jesus said to them, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners." (Mark 2:17). Sin is like an addiction to a drug; it destroys lives, affects every organ in the body, lowers inhibitions, blurs our vision, and can corrupt our minds. It takes over our daily lives and puts our family in harm’s way. It makes a “bad thing feel good.” It’s a quick fix and a deeper dependence to loathing, a sin-fulfilling prophecy. “We ignore that his burdened is light and his yoke is easy” (Matthew 11:29). We sheath our hearts by an incredible rogue-like sin, the habitual sin. The “See I Nature” that hides in plain sight yet is as dark as a black hole. We can even believe at times that we are expected to have sin, so it’s okay to sin. People can think that it’s alright to sleep around with others and to lie to our family about activities that we do, as long as we tithe and repent dress in our Sunday’s best wardrobe.


We need to be the body, looking at other members as body parts, when they hurt, we should hurt as well. We are recreated in the image of Christ and giving eternal life through his sacrifice. “For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be done away with that we should no longer be slaves to sin because anyone who has died has been freed from sin..” (Romans 6:6)
I loathe and love my isolation even though I need people to keep me accountable, honest, and humble. I learn wisdom from others. “When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.” (Proverbs 11:2). I need people to bounce my ideas off of and discuss the issues that bother me, “As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” (Proverbs 27:17).

Sin keeps us grounded like a little child, shackled, bound to earthly desires. It is expected for us to sin ever since Adam and Eve ate from the Tree that God declared to them “Hey you eat from any tree but not from that tree.” “The LORD God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it. 16 And the LORD God commanded the man, "You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; 17 but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat of it you will surely die." (Genesis 2:16-17). Obviously curiosity killed the cat and here we are sinning till our hearts fall apart. Human behavior, maybe Adam and Eve were victims of reverse psychology or perhaps they were in the mindset of an “immortal teenager.” I once was working at a summer internship in St. Louis, we did a theatrical play about time travel and Adam and Eve. After we were finished with the play one of the younger students (perhaps age nine or ten) came up to me and told me if he had a time machine he would go back in time and “bitch-slap” Adam and Eve, I said to him “yeah, that would knock some sense into them but they would still eat from the fruit.”

Temptation is a tough struggle, and we get tempted by the devil. We have nothing on Jesus who was tempted by the devil to sin (Matthew 4). The good news (two words used a lot in the Christian community) is that we can have a way out of our temptations, through Jesus. Paul wrote “No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.” (1 Corinthians 10:13).

We can avoid some temptations and Christians are looked at as hypocrites, Gandhi once said I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” Truthfully we are nothing like Christ. He left us with instructions on how to live, and we are not doing it. If Jesus returned would he be happy with what Christians have been doing, I have no idea but I have a feeling he is frustrated. We have a painful issue of abortion (something I can’t even take sides on). I’m not into the idea of abortion and believe that a life is cherished and a child should be giving a chance to live. I don’t know go to the extreme for justifying the actions some Christians have done in the act of “faith.” I would want to replace the Molotov cocktails with daffodils. Two wrongs don’t make a right.
It’s using a sin against another sin.

I was giving the scenario of protecting a family, if I was in a cafeteria and someone came in with a gun would I defend and kill the person, I said no, I would aim to disarm and attempt to reconcile. It’s a tough argument and I refuse to judge the women who have to make that decision in a negative way. I will however pray for their safety and rely on the transforming power of God. I remember reading in a book by Shane Claiborne were he learned a incredible lesson from a young child. In his book “Irresistible Revolution” he wrote about how he interviewed a friend of his after the attacks were made during 9-11, he told Shane that it would be wrong to retaliate. Two wrongs never make a right. This is a deep rooted argument that only God can resolve. It’s an interesting issue that can expose a powerful sin that exists in all of us.

The issue of habitual sin, it gives us blind power or an illusion of being good. We are hypocrites, violent and flawed. It’s expected, we have high charismatic Christian leaders caught in heinous scandals, and we have lust in our hearts not just for flesh but for money and power. We drool and grin at violence on television, we can go from caring about people and social justice issues to focusing only on a baseball game (eating food that we know destroys the temple). We also have grace and righteousness; we have also had a great response to those in pain and suffering. We are left to do what God intended for us, he left us his followers and his word. We have people sacrificing their lives in dangerous anti-Christian nations serving people. We have people expressing love and grace for society’s misfits and castaways. The trash become treasures, the burdened become blessings.

We need to believe in the transformational love of God.
What about implicit or habitual sinful acts and attitudes that are deep seeded resentments to a social group? These sins are so transparent they are never mentioned in prayers of confession. They are dissociation or disconnect to our sinful nature. We overlook them and avoid them. For example I once had biases toward the poor that was clearly exposed during a summer mission trip, I was leaving a St. Louis Cardinals versus (the great) Minnesota Twins game. I witnessed what could be described as a modern-day Pharisee. We (my group of spirited Christians) had walked with a crowd out of the game (The Twins lost, but they always win in my heart). We heard a sound of complex muffled preacher projecting his beliefs through a megaphone. The man was standing hovering over the crowd on the edge of a staircase, the staircase was in the direction and we needed to use it to get to our car. The preacher was going off about how we need to repent and how we are all going to hell (This was actually Christian Day at the ballpark, where players shared testimonies after the game). The guy was screaming at people, labeling and discriminating. The whole “us” versus “them”, “me” not “we” type of ministry. I have a problem with the end of times, scream and judge type of ministry. It’s not attractive to be that type of Christian; I assume I would have a vein popping out of my head when I pray and a high blood pressure medication prescription. I’m a Christian, and at times I’m not sure that I’m going to heaven (gnashing of teeth, lake of fire), but by belittling and condemning others is not really an act of love,

It feels like a hierarchy and that the person judging is the king, not Jesus. Remember, Jesus talked about watching out for these people, I hate to judge but it felt like... "Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves. (Matthew 7:15) I love you sounds awfully inviting when it’s coming from a Christian drill sergeant. REPENT!! I LOVE YOU!

The man standing on the staircase was on the steps directly above a shaded area, dark and lifeless, or so I thought. Under the staircase was a person in ragged clothes. It was an older woman; she was frail, stoic, and lonesome looking. Nobody approached her, acknowledged her, or engaged her. I didn’t even. She was like a ghost, an illusion. Ignored by all, she looked hopeless and in dire need for assistance. I froze, feared her, and pitied her. I thought I must be thinking the same thing these other people are thinking while the megaphone music is ranting in the background. “She doesn’t exist” or “I can’t afford to help her” or “she might use my money for booze.” Yeah, maybe so, or she has a family. Maybe she uses the money for her children, my first impression for the poor was negative and labeling them as all dirty, drunks and not worth my time.

I wanted to help her but and stereotyped her. It fueled my prejudice toward this particular population. I learned that even though I hate the hate groups as far as the issue with the poor I could create my own anti-poor people group (by the way to the hate groups hating in the name of Jesus, I love you as people but your views are warped, horrible, so go read your Bible especially the “Love God and Love People parts, get some more education please). That sin hurt real, real bad.

I wanted to tell the man above the staircase screaming louder than cattle on a kill floor that he needs to take a breath and help the lady under the stairs. I wanted to say “Hey, you need to take care of this woman; she needs to experience the love of the people who worship El Shaddai (translated God Almighty). (Exodus 6:3). As I approached the man with the voice, I almost said something but the guy had bodyguards. I remember thinking is he a famous Christian, what the heck is this? They were two tough looking guys saying “I love you” with disdain, hatred and anger on their faces. I couldn’t tell if they loved Christians or soldiers in the movie “Predator.” One might have said “Repent or I will kill you” tattooed on his neck. I wondered if the other guy used a machete to turn the pages of his Bible. I was unable to help the woman.

My prejudice was exposed because I did not do anything for this woman. I walked by her, avoided her, refused to be the exception to the rule, and forgot to read between the lines of a WWJD bracelet. He who oppresses the poor shows contempt for their Maker, but whoever is kind to the needy honors God. (Proverbs 14:31). My prejudice was exposed when I avoided asking her for lunch, going through the comfortable feeling and going along with the grain. It is simply ignorant feelings. I failed to see her as an individual made in the image of God and looked at her as a member of a group that threatened my comfort level.

I later discussed it with a few of the other people on the mission trip they had the same view. They saw the women and they too had a disconnect from her, avoided her, avoided to acknowledge that there is a homeless woman to help but we needed to get back to the dorm. That day we prayed exclusively for that woman.

I’m not use to seeing people of poverty. I’m from a small town which has limited amount of poverty or perhaps I ignore the reality of my town having poor people with feelings, just as worthless and stuck on my sinful worldview of this special population.

My mom once said that I would be “a voice for the poor.” I always ruffled my feathers and stroked my ego before when I heard that. We didn’t have a lot after my parents got divorced. We lived on section-8 housing and had food stamps for awhile but we made it. It was hard but with love, my mother and I made it through hard times. I didn’t want to have much to do with my father at the time but through treatment and patience we have an amazing relationship now. I had passion for the poor; I didn’t know anyone who was poor though. I do care about the poor but I got stuck in the sinful issue of labeling and discriminating. I look at the view that somebody else will do it. I learned it is the wrong way to look at the world. We need to make sacrifices and love others. It is wrong to think someone else will take care of it. I heard a story about all this horrible stuff happening around a man, the man asked God “Hey God are you going to do something about all this stuff, God replied “I did, I created you.” Loren Eisley’s story works well with this scenario.

“Once a man was walking along a beach. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful day. Off in the distance he could see a person going back and forth between the surf's edge and and the beach. Back and forth this person went. As the man approached he could see that there were hundreds of starfish stranded on the sand as the result of the natural action of the tide.
The man was stuck by the the apparent futility of the task. There were far too many starfish. Many of them were sure to perish. As he approached the person continued the task of picking up starfish one by one and throwing them into the surf.
As he came up to the person he said, "You must be crazy. There are thousands of miles of beach covered with starfish. You can't possibly make a difference." The person looked at the man. He then stooped down and picks up one more starfish and threw it back into the ocean. He turned back to the man and said, "It sure made a difference to that one!"

There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore I command you to be openhanded toward your brothers and toward the poor and needy in your land. (Deuturonomy 15:11). I struggle helping others; I try to help myself first. I need to reverse this view and help more. Jesus said “You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me." (John 12:8).

How do we resolve this issue, I’m no expert but will try to stab a little of this issue. Pray for the exposures of our sins that are unconscious and lay dormant until exacerbated by reality of peoples true lives. Obviously we are different, diverse and predisposed to fear and challenged by our differences. When exposed go directly to the Lord, pray right away, pray often, ignore your own thoughts. “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight. (Proverbs 3:5-6). Be brutally honest with yourself and don’t hold back. Humbly yourself before the Lord and look directly at your sin, harness the prayer. Then deliver it to God and let God’s ultimate power take its course. It’s God of Wonders not God of Warriors. Believe in the transformation and change that I have personally witnessed. The great thing is anything is possible!

It may take time and patience. I’m again not an expert, I fail all the time, I struggle with this topic still. I’m not ready to give up all my possessions and work with the poor or even trust God enough to move into a poor community, I enjoy my comforts. I’m like you, a working process trying to rely on God and do the next right thing. It takes work, changing habits hurts and is discomfort able. My friend works with the poor in St. Louis, she goes and eats lunch with them and says that they would die to protect her. She trusts in the Lord and has a heart for people. If we ignore and bury our sins they do not go away. It is like putting a band-aid on a festering wound. There is no healing and when the band aid is removed there is still a festering wound. "My humanity is bound up in yours, for we can only be human together." Desmond Tutu


It’s similar to color-blind perspective, ignoring culture instead of honoring it. This sin issue needs to be broken instead of swept under the proverbial rug. God has the power to reconcile our baggage and organize our hearts. Keep it on your mind, pray often instead of avoiding, learn from mistakes and accept things you can change and believe in the transforming God who wants us to love not hate.
SHALOM

If no one has said I love you today, I love you.


Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing. Mother Teresa.




References
\Claiborne, Shane. The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 2006. Print.
NIV Holy Bible (various pages)
"Star Fish Story." Home Page - NIU - College of Education. Web. 16 Mar. 2010. .

Thoughts on Faith paraphrasing wise men.

There are so many things that are amazing about going on a mission trip, very refreshing, striking the “I’m going to save the world” mentality. It’s at the time when it’s a familiar place where you have been before. I’m moving there soon, I want to move there that is. I have found refugee among people who want to follow Christ in a radical way. It’s not about conservative versus liberal views just action and faith together following Jesus’ love for people. I’m worried even though Jesus proclaimed that money doesn’t run the world and that we do not need to be so ingrained in the concept that money rules the world.

My spring break involved kids from broken homes sent to a school that tries to teach but ends up as a babysitting agency. There are kids that do want to be there and enjoy learning. I’m not the greatest with kids though, but the people in St. Louis at City Lights have taken me in and helped me realize that I have a home down there. St. Louis is the second largest refugee city in the nation, the first is Houston or maybe New York, I know it’s not Quincy Illinois though.

I’m a fan of being mission's, compassionate and ready to give my life for Christ to an extent unfortunately. Here’s the truth, I live for performance at times. The looking glass Christian who looks in the mirror and wants to see a similarity to Jesus but looks more like the Emperor’s new clothes (naked and narcissistic). One who believes there are the possibilities of the Gospel but they our bottled up and stored for consumption only at appropriate times. It’s a canned faith and it’s as stale as an opened day old soda pop. I will believe only when it’s a luxury and attractive looking, not a necessity like the very air God created to be a life force for our existence.

My faith can easily be explained like Gary Haugen describes in his book “Good News about Injustice” when he describes faith in comparison to Object permanence found in infants. I only believe when something is directly in front of me. We need prayer; I need pray both for me and too pray for others. When we pray it is like the very oxygen we rely on, we inhale faith and righteousness and exhale our sins that have been forgiven. Don’t ever give up.

My instructor Gerry said “For God so loved the world and yet we don’t.” We simply ignore it and destroy it. Here in America, we own the realm of being wasteful and wasted. I’m wondering about the bracelet that I am wearing it says “Jesus loves you” in the language of Ukraine, which is good but flipped around says “Made in China.” With object permanence I think who made this? I think did the maker of the bracelet believe in Jesus. Has the maker of the bracelet heard about the Gospel? Was the person paid a fair wage? Then easily forget and go about my business wondering what happened to Jim and Pam on the Office or what I am going to wear to school on Monday. We have the ability to care in small quantities.

We have worships in locked churches across the nation, ignoring the man sleeping on the back steps in the middle of winter. Worshipping a homeless man, a refugee, a king who look on the sins of the world yet we roll our eyes to the videos showing starving children and thinks it’s a scam. We, unfortunately become “happy hypocrites” living in a country without equal health care for its people and also a people who have created bloodshed across the land.

I could never be a war pastor that would be the worst job. My thoughts would be very hard to justify, God please bless these soldiers as they shoot and bomb these other soldiers. God please “protect us from this exotic people.” It’s unfortunately politics that blinds us, liberal versus conservative much like protestant versus Catholic. What are the politics of Jesus? What shape is the world like with his system?

I would have so much trouble with it, I’m praying for “our” safety as children of God against other children of God. Would I make exceptions though, it’s okay to kill them, there Muslims and need to be converted.” It’s a horrible position of blind faith, praying for safety and protection. Most days I wrestle with personal, selfish sin issues and neglect the worldview of altruism. One general idea is that we are saved and does not need to help out others must be smashed. It’s an ugly way to live; helping others actually helps us. There must be some neurological similarities with helping others that triggers our dopamine pathways; the pleasure pathways can go crazy. I don’t currently know the part of the relationship

I’m in with my faith, the honey moon stage has come and gone and I’m working on avoided the bland oatmeal type faith, turning my relationship into a comfortable recliner and television lifestyle, where I believe in God with a hardened heart and see the Gospel from only one tunnel vision lens. I know in the Bible it was said that there will always be poor but it shouldn’t be this bad. I’m convicted and also afraid that I will yield my action and neglect what is right in front of me.

Beneath the Surface

I have taking the week off from school. I'm exhausted and I haven't moved much. I had a trip planned for St. Louis for spring break. I spent the last spring break and the summer in the beautiful city that is the gateway to the west. I went to see my beloved Twins play on the hottest day in St. Louis during the summer. St. Louis Cardinals slugger and NL MVP hit two home runs that game. Twins bats melted in the heat and they lost 3-1. I wore a grey T-shirt that really showed off the sweat I had accumulated over a 9 inning game. I was exhausted and lacking water. I have many great memories of going to St. Louis. It is a very exciting city. I can't explain what I have been doing the last couple of days. I worked for awhile, listened to Ozzy, and avoided the fear of rejection. Sometimes I feel like asking a girl out on a date is like planning for battle arrangements or like the classic jump rope game double dutch. I shouldn't over analyze things also. I would well off thinking less and doing more. Especially when I turn something so simple, fun, and good into dark, haunted and lifeless. It breeds depression and lack of exercise. I forces new unsatisfying addictions to surface and say "Dan you suck at life, but you know what, I can make everything go away."

The concept of the Addictive System is a good way of explain addiction to me. It's apart of the addictive personality. I don't think people are addicted to my personality (which is good, I know some people who would make scary candidates for stalkers). I have the personality that is riddled with fear and escape from this cold and wretched world. I get left behind, feel worthless and tithe to addictions and not God. I never understood the tithing of Christianity, i mean God doesn't care about money but he wants it. I used to have a great escape from rejection. It was called "Bartender, Whiskey coke, hold the coke." This wasn't like an escape from Alcatraz (which was possible but not easy). This was like escaping from school (just don't go)Drinking is an easy escape from feelings and emotions.

I'm in recovery from drugs, I'm learning a new love language. I have the opportunity to discover the world in a different and unique way. Recovery is a challenge, having feelings without chemical or process addictions are a challenge. I'm so flawed and feeled with failures. Here's the deal though, I don't focus on that all the time. I need to acknowledge and let go, then create healthy relationships. I try not to focus ideally on the fabrication of failure, especially rejection. I know that If you focus on rejection, your going to get rejected. Just breath and trust in something other than yourself.

I'm not alone in recovery obviously, others know different ways to change behaviors and thought processes. It's interesting to look at the health industry both mainstream and holistically. There's a way to train ourselves to change habits, It's not easy but it's possible. This life is dangerously short. I'm not the tallest person either. I know I have good and bad qualities and have accomplished some real challenging, painful things (i passed astronomy, graduated high school, ran a mile, went to treatment, passed psychopharmacology, changed my major 4 times, had a job for over 2 years, quit smoking...started smoking and quit again, and changed a my sweet nieces diapers a few times). I focus more on the defects of my character (i lied about going on a trip to St. Louis, hate my appearance, inferior and intimidated by some extroverts, tell myself i suck at life, use food sometimes for comfort to heal my pain, blame others for my problems, isolate from people who are close to me, hate people at times cause their different then me (even when I know it's wrong and I'm against the ideas, blaming my childhood for my traumas, resentments without forgiving others, and it keeps going...).

It's the classic Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde story. You could look at it like a werewolf in a full moon setting as well. At night it triggers the dysfunction, we lose interest in others and avoiding facing ourselves. I have been able to be helped and help others. I believe in miracles, i truly feel i have been given a gift. I do not have to fear others and settings. I need to know more about the serenity prayer where it goes "accept the things i can not change and the courage to change the things I can." Life is both beautiful and ugly at the same time. It depends how much love there is. Lately, I have spent so much time isolating, not taking care of myself and playing the "what went wrong tape..." I need to realign and readjust my life and revise the back issues and start fresh....love Dan/

I love this life, I am learning to live a more wholesome life. I know their is a lot of pain in the world and I try to look at pain as the Buddhist look at pain. If I take my pain and put into the pot with the world's pain, it doesn't get rid of the pain, it just puts it to it's actual size. I can go on and on about the pains in the world (earthquakes, homicides, adultery, massive debt, depressions, unemployment, hunger pangs, school shootings, lethal injections, chemical warfare, fist fights, people twisting religion for personal power, and blah blah blah...). I can however flip the feelings switch and look at the pleasures of the world (laughing till you almost pee your pants, a smile from a friend, holding onto my niece and hearing her sing, eating fruit, talking through issues, giving someone a hug, flowers blooming, breathing in the air, the sun shining down on our faces.)There is a lot beneath the surface, we only show a small percentage of ourselves, we have some many different selves and have so much diversity and social pressures in the world. If your a slave to something and feel the strain of life, don't drift into negative emotions, work on issues with someone and try to force a smile. You may be able to trick your brain into being happy and in love. Scratch underneath the surface.

Smoke Excuse

I’m clinging to a laziness that can only be parallel to the proverbial boredom I’ve instilled. I’m a wretched disaster today. I came to work fully with the intention on giving it my all. I am currently working away the kinks that are my lifestyle. I don’t smoke but want to start. I wonder when I will fold. I understand that when someone quits the slavery of nicotine, they hate other smokers. Yes, smokers not the concept or the idea, the actual physical act and specimen doing the poisonous ritual. Then the complaint after complaint, you stink, it’s bad for you, it’s like kissing an ashtray, it’s unattractive, expensive, and whatever else made be materialized. I may smoke soon just thinking about not smoking. I was always a fan of smoking when I saw a no-smoking add. Take that,flick the bic, sharp and fire. First drag and inhale. Now I think I’m a rebel. Actually replace rebel with slave. Even when you quit you’re still a slave. You’ve just become socially aware in the idea that you don’t need to do the activity anymore. Nobody enjoys smoking except the first cigarette has some merit. I was a ritualistic smoker; I smoked when I turn the car ignition on or after a cup of coffee. I smoked because my sister told me that I couldn’t. She used my angelic, hallowed niece as bait to get me too quit. She would explain that I couldn’t see her or hold her unless I was not smoking. Come on now, that’s a damn dare. I then felt rebellious all over again. Smoking became rogue-like, dangerous, and sheik. I used the high-school cover up except I did not lower myself to use “Axe body spray.” I use Obsession for Men, which is not the manliest name for body spray. Obsession for Men. At least it’s not Perspire, Sweat or is not a vile containing the ingredients from the “bog of eternal stench” from the Labyrinth. I hid the smell of cigarettes with cologne, it has no effect like a lot of commercials depict. When I spray myself with cologne, I do not suddenly have to run for my life from the sex craved women all around me. No, they must have adapted, but I hear new formulas are being patented by the Food and Drug Administration. My fingers are crossed and I hope they don’t test on animals. When I apply the cologne to cloak the smoke, it actually provides two smells to make my sisters olfactory bulbs go haywire.

“Oh you smell like Obsession and Cigarettes?” She says. She knows the smell of both; she dated someone who used Obsession. Her and my mom both like the smell, I think I may switch brands.
“No…” I start to sweat, think of a quick lie, it will buy you sometime, I go through my logical excuse file in my brain (it’s next what was my ability to divide), use some classic such as I’ve had a stressed out day, I was at a friend’s house who smokes, and “…I was at a friend’s house who smokes.” Nice covers Agent Massaglia; you sly devil you I thought. I know she she’s straight through it but plays along.

It seems to work as a great cover, works a couple of times until the self-conscious and guilt enters the picture. So, I quit after awhile with help from chewing gum and my friend suggestion of I try a visual depiction that every time I smoke, I’m sucking Phillip Morris’ penis. Very distorted this friend of mine is and it made me feel uncomfortable. I have no idea what Phillip Morris’ penis looks like, but I don’t want to know. I’m sure it’s nice and frankly you should use it to go fuck yourself with it (I apologize for the language; I’m told that irritability happens to be a side effect of nicotine withdrawal). Inhale a drag of that. Well, my then appetite increased a bunch as well, a sudden shift from a chemical addiction to a process addiction. Then there’s “return of the king” casted as the lead role is my metabolism instead of Sam the Wise (I could play the fat one, call my agent). I learned that nobody wants to challenge someone who just quit smoking to a food eating contest, and if they dare challenge they will lose bad, so proceed with that as a disclaimer. If it were an Olympic event the challenger would have to be ashamed to return to their country with no medals. The ex-smoker will have won all three. For me, I was able to tackle whole large pizzas. Rome wasn’t built overnight but this pizza was devoured in one I would think. I was a real glutton for pies (still am). The way to my hurt is through my stomach. I get hunger pangs just thinking about it. I could gorge and dominate at buffets. It was magical and I began to compare myself to great big boned people, George Wendt, Chris Farley, John Goodman, and of course Peter Griffin. My belly even took on a new persona ‘Papa Smurf’, except it wasn’t blue. I thought I was the next Winnie the Pooh with less stuffing. I always wanted to be piglet because I’m short and afraid of virtually everything. I think piglets passive aggressive too, much like myself. I see the connection.

All in all, quitting has made things a little easier. I no longer need to smoke even though I always want to smoke. I eat constantly now so I’m watching my weight. Watching it grow. I’m wincing with excitement to see my niece without lying to others and myself. I don’t hate smokers, just the really attractive ones. I don’t taste like an ashtray anymore so when I get kissed, I won’t hear that complaint (at least I won’t hear that one). My clothes smell like gasoline spills and pizza delivery bags now instead of the latter combination and Marlboro cigarettes. The sad thing is though writing this has brought on a mega craving that can only be as sad as a homeless man at a mega church. I will go home to avoid this craving or stop by the gas station and add my five or six dollars to the slave ship owners and get back to inhaling black tar into my alveoli. So in all I go back to smoking with new and exciting justifications and dissonance. I have days where I crave cigarette after cigarette, almost neurotic about it. One drag I take my nicotinic receptors tells the rest of my brain that more tar is necessary to finish the job (which I have yet to be told about). I can run every other block now and could excel in a career as a professional cougher. I’m a social smoker and I talk to myself at times so I always am able to have some conversation while I smoke. The price increase fails to yield my purchases. It’s a ritual, a necessity to smoke, no brakes on this interstate. I have a sweet beard; it itches as much as my tolerance to nicotine. I hear that carrots help; I only like fruits and vegetables blended or pureed together though which is a messy and painful death for the gang of “Veggie Tales”. I don’t know the addiction to smoking in great detail much like my comprehension to Samuel Beckett’s “Waiting For Godot.”

The after taste is one of the worst parts of the addiction; nothing overtakes it except maybe toothpaste. When I brush my teeth I often forget how much orange juice and toothpaste hate each other and my taste buds tell my whole body it’s nauseous and needs a time to adjust. It’s not the greatest couple they just lack lack in cohabitation skills and should seek a marriage and family therapist to work on some solutions. It would be a messy court hearing. Both are extremely popular, toothpaste always has fresh breath and orange juice has quick bursts of energy; seem to bring on charisma through the whole day. They loath each other but need to look at their relationship as a business after the divorce. Smoking tastes horrible with each one it cheats with.

I started smoking in the 7Th grade; I wanted to impress a girl who was rebellious, attractive and a good looking smoker. My hormones were faster than Woody’s betrayal to Buzz Light-year in the movie “Toy Story.” I hope for smoking I don’t have a “too infinite and beyond” relationship. I don’t know if I heading towards heaven or hell but as a smoker I imagine there’s a no-smoking sign in hell and you can obtain the greatest tobacco leafs without tax in heaven. I’m not sure if there’s empirical evidence for either case but it can be debated by theologians and philosophers at a later time. I’m a product of my learned behaviors with smoking, a self-fulfill prophecy. The program called D.A.R.E. (I think it stands for Drugs are Really Exciting, I could be wrong though) educated us on the dangerous of smoking and how we will be outcasts left on a island of UN-cool, much like Piggy from “Lord Of The Flies.” Smoking became a part of socialization and I would drift towards delinquency. I accepted the social bond and attachment, deviance, and negative personal identity that was to be in the future. I worked on self-labeling skills and stigmas. I wouldn’t call it an identity crisis but a discovery, an experiment much like other teens, a way to look as cool as James Dean, Smokey Robinson, or Miles Davis combined. It helped me have characteristics of an extrovert. I thought when I smoke I spoke. Then I took to slang terms to describe my habit using questions and phrases like “Can I bum one or let’s go smoke a heater.” The last one confuses me and if literary done could cause significant damage to your lips and mouth. Anyways, she was cute and not really into me, much more sexually aware then I was. She enjoyed swimming in ponds with a heavy leech infestation that or she was in an abusive relationship with a suction cup. Her neck had more bruises than an American health care plan. I was hooked though to smoking and felt the rebel alliance overtake the empire when I was hiding around the middle school smoking with other smokers.

Later on in my career as a smoker I became a fan of smoking on the black tar path behind school, the teachers didn’t do anything because it wasn’t on school property. I had a few friends who would buy them for me, so at times I would resort to thievery and rummage through my mother’s purse. In her purse were a horrendous blend of tobacco and possibly pencil shavings. The first couple of drags tasted horrible, but once you get past the miserable gagging taste, the smoke was enjoyable. That’s when my taste buds go on vacation to Chang Mai, Thailand. They come back quickly have I’m done smoking or when I drink orange juice while smoking. Another bad combination is milk and a cigarettes, that is walking the plank and landing into a pool of angry and hungry accountants (it’s a numbers game and you would be out numbered and defenseless).

I remember when I successfully stole my first cigarette from my mom; it was on an air force base in Okinawa, Japan. Each roach isolated apartment had its own shed to put various equipment such as a lawn mower, clippers, three boys, and one cigarette. With two other friends Jamal, David, and I crammed into David’s shed and light the toxic creation. We each took a drag and started to gag and cough. We could have produced an obscure album of our coughing choir; it would have gone at least gold. My eyes turned red with tears and I fell to the ground into the fetal position. Suddenly we heard a noise, it was the screeching of the door being opened. There stood my mother towering over us with fire coming out of her eyes, she looked like one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse with a dress on. She was breathing heavier than a dolphin that just got dropped into Grand Canyon. If looks could kill I would be smoking in heaven right now. I received a strict punishment and vowed to never touch another cigarette again….time to need a smoke and have one. As an old friend of mine always says “I’m upright, semi-sane and able to take in nourishment.