Memoir of Jack

Black "Jack" Grudzielanek has moved on to lay upon the lap of Jesus. In his short eight years of life in my care, he has been an active little guy. He's had two brothers and a sister in his life, and was a great companion to both them and myself. Always a curious cat, he would greet my visitors with eagerness and love--always trying to give anyone his trademark "nose-kiss" with his damp, black nose. (Except for my two wonderful nephews who would chase him around Grandma's home.)

Upon arriving home from work Friday night, his health took a nose dive for the worse. While his condition left him to fall, stumble and lose his balance (refer to blog entry a few days prior), he no longer was able to walk more than a few steps without falling and his body would tighten with pain, as his heart-renching cry would indicate. In utter sadness, I watched him "get up" from his cozy blanket by the heat register by rolling off and crashing on the floor. I had prayed hard for Jack--I prayed for God to heal him, whichever way that meant--in an earthly fashion or a life in eternal catnip and people to walk upon, as he would frequently do when guests were over.

Friday night, I knew that Jack wasn't going to get well. I stayed up late watching TV mostly to spend the last remaining time I had with him stretched across my chest, purring and thwacking his tail. Around 12:30 or so, I setup some cushions around my bed and a "ladder" for him to get up or down since I knew he didn't have the energy to make the full leap to my bed; and to protect him if he wanted to get down. I snuggled with Jack all night long--he didn't move; neither did I. Upon waking up, I knew the worst for me was coming--that trip to the vet. I shed tears upon tears; trying to praise the Lord for my time with Jack--knowing full well, this was the last I was going to be able to hold him. I buried him with is brothers in the back yard, and am now faced with my house being that much more empty.

I am, without a doubt, going to miss Jack. Typing at my computer will never be the same without his 10 lb sleek, black body keeping my lap warm; feeling the reverberations of his purr on my legs; or his thumping tail as I would gently pet him. Watching TV or reading a book without him on my chest will cause me to miss him further. I am happy that he is with God now, for I know that God's care trumps mine, and I look forward to the day when I can be reunited with Jack and the others I had the privilege to care for.

I now seek prayers for Oreo--his sister that he had spent the last year with. When Jill suddenly left, Jack was alone in my absence, and I could hear his wailing cry as I approached the door--and then eagerly greeted when I walked through. I pray that she can cope without Jack around as I don't know if I'll get her another brother. I am now left with complete dullness to life; full aware that I am loved by God, but my joy is overshadowed with the loss of a wonderful son.

Friends: who are they really?

All throughout the weekend, beginning with Friday evening, I had this thought on my mind--brought on by contact, or lack there of, with friends. I let it sit for a bit because I wasn't really sure if I was just playing into some evil mind trick or what--so I let it be. The weekend went fairly well, but I was plagued with this thought pretty heavily Saturday evening, and it sent me to bed quite tired thinking about it. Again--I let it sit and prayed about it. Sunday, the sermon at church revitalized that thought--the sermon was rather good--(http://www.whchurch.org/) under sermons if anyone that doesn't attend wants to listen. After that sermon, my mind was elsewhere with other things I had to do; but then when I eventually returned home, I read a fellow bloggers entry that evening--and again, the friend thing popped up.

Her blog was very insightful and offered some supporting thoughts for myself when she talked about one of her closest friends and how she appreciates and would do anything for that friend. My initial reaction was--very cool, wow, I really get what she means; I too would love to express what she was able to about friends I have.

I'm pretty selective on the friends I have, or choose to have. I never really had a lot of friends, due to my upbringing--and those friends I did have were mostly women. Truly, I tell you--as a guy, women were so much easier to talk to--the topics were so much more interesting and involved as compared to the talk of the guys revolving around cars and sports. Neither of which I really find important, and couldn't relate. I have found a few guy friends that share my views--and that is great; the problem is developing those relationships, and others along the way--lends me to think, are they really "friends" or just wanting gossip information.

Ooh--that really riles me up--gossip that is. I've been a victim of gossip and it's just so wrong--biblically too. Rest assured, I don't talk much with people that I know are repeat gossipers. I joined facebook about a month ago--partially because I was bored, and also to get more connected to people and events--adding "friends" to my list has been fun, but I don't have nearly as many as some--I'm pretty selective on who I call a friend.

What troubles me, is the thought that is this or that person really a friend? When I talk to people I call friends--I share much about my life; but as the sermon pointed out, there needs to be a reciprocity in that relationship. Many times--I don't feel like it's there. I don't know if I'm just conceited or what--but there are a few friends that will talk to me here and there--almost as if they need some "dirt" about me or some situation I'm going through. I opened up to one such individual because the both of us were going through a similar situation; but to this day, I feel like the teeter-totter is tipped against me and it is as if this friend comes knocking when more information is needed about me or someone I know. And that troubles me. I truly care about this person and what the situation is--I think this person would be a great friend--but at this point, I'm pretty much closing up shop and letting it be.

Am I too empathetic? Does the fact that I wear my heart on my sleeve leave me prone to unnecessary hurt? Am I naive? What's the blonde thing--too "easy"? (sterotypical, I know--forgive me) Am I too trusting? All this and more just rages on in my head--it's about the only sporting event I'm a part of--a rather active game of ping-pong. So far as I'm aware, Jesus was friendly to all--he was open with all; so in that tradition--I try to mirror that. Jesus was eventually nailed to the cross by those "friends"; is that my "fate" as well if I continue on this course (figuratively of course)? In my past life, this kind of stuff didn't bother me--now it does as my emotions are more developed, so it's really a struggle. My mind is at a point of stiffling itself and my heart putting up a shield to these "friends" I think I have. It doesn't feel right to do so; but is a friend really a friend if they don't equally share in the depth of the conversation or time spent involved as a friend? Perhaps more on this later...

Jack

Jack and Oreo sleeping on the couch

With many thoughts streaming through my head--it's hard to focus on just one, other than my Lord; but one topic that continues to plague me is about my cat Jack. I've had Jack since he was a little kitten--he's about 8 now, and he's just a cute lil' bugger. I named him Jack because it's short for blackjack, and he's all black with three little white hairs on his neck.

Sitting at home with him, he'll snuggle in next to my lap, or if I'm laying down on the couch, he'll lay across my chest, thumping his tail in joy and happiness. Sometimes, he'll just stand there looking at me through his large black eyes trimmed out in orange gold. Other times, he spooks me because when the lighting is just right, all you can see is the glow of his beautiful eyes while his body is mascaraded by the darkness. He's got a strong but silent purr and he'll even talk a bit now and then.

But I'm plagued by his health. Up until about 5 months ago, he was in fine health. He's probably the first cat I've had that hasn't been overweight--pretty much right at his optimal weight for his size. Prior to his health degrading, I would find some of his affection annoying--like jumping onto my neck while I'm sitting at the computer. As his health degraded, that stopped, and he jumped to my lap instead--now days, he lifts a quiet paw to touch my leg letting me know he wants up.

I started noticing something not quite right with Jack. He started not doing things he normally did; and as his health degraded, he began walking as if he was drunk. Sidestepping, stumbling and even falling at times. Just yesterday as I was reading a book, he fell off the kitchen table--the poor guy. I've taken him to my trusted vet for diagnostics and they tested him for all that I could afford but came up with nada. The best guess is that he has some sort of neorological problem, but without a cat scan (ironic term) and/or MRI and xray, there's no way to tell for sure. While I treat my pets as my kids, there are limits to how much I can spend. He is a precious little guy, and my heart sinks every time I hear a thud.

I worry about the next time he falls--perhaps injuring himself. I struggle with the thought that I'll have to put him down some day as his actions are just so saddening. He doesn't appear to be in pain--but of late, he'll even squeek out a meager groan indicating that it's not getting better. I help him up and down to the couch, and I'm thankful he's still able to feed and poo himself in the appropriate places. I've had to put down another cat in the recent years--and while I only had him for 6 months, his health consumed him (he was a stray), and could no longer perform the actual duties required of sustaining life; I had him "put to sleep", and while I was all prepared to do so--I still broke down irrevicably shedding tears upon tears--and that was after a six month attachment.

I pray every day for a miraculous healing from God, and every day, Jack still continues to struggle. My heart saddens for him because I don't have any other means to "cure" him. My prayers now include that God heal him or bring him home, because I don't know if I'll be able to send him there myself.

More random musings

I just finished reading the book by Calvin Miller, Becoming: Your Self in the Making. Overall, I'd say the book was good--it offered an objective way to see yourself and understand yourself and the influences that have impacted you and the extent that those influences may be guiding your life, perhaps--unbenownst to oneself. I offer more random thoughts from the book that caught my attention; I'll offer my insight on them if requested.

Winning is a matter of focus and discipline. Losing happens because we misjudge the race or fail to prepare adequately or do not struggle to win. Losing often occurs simply because we do not focus on winning.

The innate self questions and doubts that the quantum self will be able to maintain the production of that product which brought it outer esteem and thus a feeling of inner worth as well. Now this inner-outer harmony becomes jangled by inner doubt.

The last chapter of the book, coincidentally was the one I liked the most--it offered the most thought provoking healing that I so desperately seek, despite my reliance on God and my overall happiness about my life. The last chapter is entitled "Repairing the Damaged Self."

Raised without love, children come to believe themselves unlovable.

When, in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes, I all alone weep my outcast state, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featur'd like him, like him with friends possess'd, Desiring this man's art and that man's scope.

There are many indicators of ego damage. Damaged egos are unable to cope with things they ought to be able to manage. The rough spots of life that others handle with some ease leave the damaged self disoriented and confused.

Depression is a sympton of the noncoper. Depression is the unwelcome soul guest who says the innate self is under the heavy heel of a burdensome psychology. No real headway can be made toward inner peace. Self-esteem is usually not possible for those walled in by depression, but self-concern is. Those who cope with depressives continually and unsuccessfully have to admit they are among the most selfish on earth. They cannot be free of their woeful entanglement in their own affairs to show even an instant of concern elsewhere. Their selfishness brings them little joy. ... Depression feeds on idle thought and time. But it wallows masochistically in the tearful space it makes for itself.

Your life begins / Somewhere beyond / my radius. / I scour my scuffed / circumference / For signs of you... / Held fast, again, / at last, / By who I am.

Reference Job 16:12-17.

To switch from negative to positive thinking about ourselves is arduous and includes three steps: blockage, substitution, and rehearsal. ... The inner Christ performs that function and you must hear Him. The peace of God blows the whistle like a game official and says, "That low-esteem thought you have just allowed yourself is simply not fair. It is based, not on any objective truth, but on your negative way of thinking. You should immediately eliminate that thought since it is inconsistent with God's love for you. Further, you should eliminate it on the solid evidence that a score of people who really know you would disagree with it."

A belief that I must remember as I lift each step to Him:

"I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand upon the earth.
And after my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh I will see God. Job 19:25, 26

Thank you Brittany (plug for her blog, click on her photo below) for the recommendation of this book. I look forward to discussing it with you if you elect to do so (anyone else for that matter too.) If you have any others to share, please do so. My next book--a thin one--Sit, Walk, Stand: The Process of Christian Maturity is at bat.

Schindler's List

I know I already posted an entry today, but this is my journal of sorts, so bear with me. Over the course of a few days, I finished watching a movie that I just adore. It's called Schindler's List. This time through, I had feelings different than past times watching this movie. Perhaps it's due to the series our church body is doing call "Compassion by Command" (http://www.whchurch.org/), or just a different mind set--either way, I'm going to comment on the movie.

A quick review of the movie to set the stage--this non-fictional movie documents in Hollywood fashion, the extermination of the Jews during WWII by German forces. One man, Schindler, attempts to get rich off the cheap labor of Jews. He goes to great lengths to bribe German officials to look the other way, makes items for the army, indulges in the finer things a lot of money can buy. Through the course of the movie, I notice a change in his heart--while still seeking to make "more money than one can spend," he comes to a point of spending all he has to protect a few Jews from inhuman treatment and certain death. For those that haven't seen the movie, I apologize for giving the ending away.

What hit me the most this time around with this movie is the closing minutes of the film. Oskar Schindler, the once thriving German slave-labor extortionist stands upon a podium in his factory, facing 1100 Jews that he "saved." He admits that he is the enemy, an extortionist of slave labor, an indulger of life, and soon to be hunted since the war is about to be over. Before this event, because of his business savy and persuasive ways with the German officials, he "buys" these 1100 workers (men, women and children) because, as he puts it--they are trained in his factory and know how to work (money!!). But you can feel that he feels for these people because he truly is against the extermination of them--while he doesn't outright admit that, it is true ("I'll be greatly saddened if even one shell from this factory works"). He goes to great lengths to protect them during the final stages of the war until he's utterly broke and penniless. Upon his "fleeing" from the factory after the war, the 1100 Jews craft a ring dedicated to the triumph that he did--he saved 1100 from death. They write a letter and give it to him explaining his heroic efforts on part of these 1100 in the event he is captured. This, from a people that his political part deemed as inhuman and wanted them all dead. What a mystery.

How does an enemy, extortionist of slave labor, a man focused on money recieve such accomodation from those he was cheating and the like? Forgiveness is the only thing I can think of. Here, a man who cheated on his wife, made money off the work of others, following a political regime against them, gets "off" with a victory departure from those who, in every right, should repay with the same inhumane treatment inflicted upon them. Amazing. He "saved" 1100 of 6 million that were killed. It's a small trimuph, but it has had lasting impact to this day.

I'm awestruck at the awesomeness this movie depicts. I know the events of this story to be true--I've seen the memorials of another genocidal movement in Cambodia--it is atrocious the way we humans are, over such things as land and possessions. Being a man, (sterotype here), I should just blink and say--"oh, that was horrible; but that's war"; but the woman in me just grieves--sorrow so heavy and guilt from something I didn't do just binds me. How little am I in this world when I complain about the struggles I have when these people, forced from their homes onto cramp train cars; destined for labor camps; starved; brutally treated; killed; and then burned in a fire? I didn't save 1100 people from death, not even one. I do what I can--but I grieve with the 6 million that died because of war. It's awful.

I (standing on my podium) am a child of God. I have done evil things. I've indulged in the pre-marital sexual poison that continues to still darken my blood and mind, if even mildly. I've taken God's name in vain. I'm struggling against an 8-year nicotine addiction that I haven't been able to stop--harder now while on a program designed to loose the chains binding me. I've lied, decieved--even to those I love. I have hurt those I meant not to hurt; I have lost those I love. I have spoken in anger, guilt and out of sin and failure, recieve the oppression that it brings. I have not loved my neighbor as myself. I am a child of God at the end of his rope. I don't deserve the praise of others; I don't deserve to share a life with another because I'm broken. I'm shattered, torn and defeated. I flee now, as an enemy of this world in hopes that, in the event I'm caught, given the grace to "redo" life. I love my Creator; but my linen's aren't worthy of such a beautiful God. Humbly, I knee, awaiting V2.2 of Matt to be downloaded.

Ahh

Breath in...exhale...ahh. Today is Sunday--well, it's almost sunday evening, and it's been a pretty good sunday. Yesterday I volunteered with the DNR and Boston Scientific cleaning up a portion of Pig's Eye Island in S Saint Paul. Amazing amount of crap in the river that had been lodged on the island. Apparently this island is a refuge for birds, cranes and the like, so it's one of the many areas important to keep clean. We collected about 150 cubic yards of trash in 3 hours time from a very small area of the island. I personally hauled a semi-truck tire, a car tire, 55 gallon plastic drum, and filled about 5 large garbage bags of styrofoam (cups and packing materials), plastic and glass bottles and just other miscellaneous debris. As a citizen of this state/country--I'm ashamed at lack of concern everyone has for this great creation. However, it is what it is, and all I can do is praise God and help keep things clean. Afterwards, I did some miscellaneous things around the house and hung out with friends at a nice, warm bonfire. It was a decent saturday, even though the cloud of oppression surrounding my head was very much there.

Today though, I didn't acknowledge the cloud. I woke up earlier than planned, and with some time before service, I played piano--it was a great way to wake up this morning. I met with friends before and after service, and I had a great time. The cloud wanted to rain on me, but it didn't and I didn't even bring the umbrella. A large lunch with friends sent me home with more food than I should have eaten, but now I'm set for the evening!!

As I drove around, I wondered why today was better than Friday. I couldn't really answer that completely, but I think it has something to do with my understanding of my emotional self. Prior to Christ, emotions were silly to me--sure I laughed and cried, but I think that was mostly to fit in and not be so stoic appearing. After Christ, and it's been 4 years, understanding emotions and the impact they have on me has been, well--it's been interesting. My lack of understanding them has caused problems for me and relationships; I was either too this or too that, and sometimes that was too much or too little pending the feeling. I think that this cloud that shadows my days is one that is trying to keep me in that too much/too little analytical state--cutting me off from enjoying life. While I don't fully understand myself--and perhaps never will--I think what I felt on Friday and prior days is normal??? Not really sure though. It's a mystery to me--but one that I continually seek His guidance and wisdom on regardless of the cloud hovering over me. I have to kick myself though, because honestly--I truly believe that because of my lack of inner-understanding, I've ruined a great many things in my life--and I regret a lot of things I've done/said ... (pardon me a sec...)

I know I'm not perfect--I never will be and I'm fine with that. Oh, I dunno what to say--this internal pain is great; weaping inside. I don't do everything perfect, but I try. I don't mean to be so this or that, and I'm trying. I fear that by the time I even begin to "get it", my life will be in the heavens with God--and that hurts because my heart is huge and my desire to share life with another in His presence is strong. Not with just anyone either. Augh, geez--I just need to stop.

Thanks for listening, my counseling world.

Sigh

Let me do that again--sigh. This won't be a traditional blog entry, but I just feel so blah. I just returned from a christian singles gathering--it was quite fun; but flagged with questions of how I'm doing and the like; and while my response has been "Oh, I'm hanging on" just isn't cutting it for me. I think my new response will be "That question can be answered on so many tiers--which would you like?" While I have been home a lot because work is slow (may have a job next week???), I've been keeping busy with small groups and a class, but when I really think about it, I'm rather lonely. On the most important tier--I'm happy and loving God; no issues there--it's the rest of the tiers that just suck.

I feel like such a cloud of oppression decending on me. Most happiness and joy aren't there. Self-view is pretty crappy right now. I feel like giving up on even trying anymore. I feel like people I view as friends are really not and just being nice, conspiring even. Maybe I ask for too much from friends?? I'm sure this is probably just something that'll pass, but who knows for sure. Why did God give me such a heart for people when people don't want it? I serve Him because it's what I'm called to do and I enjoy it; but in the end, I'm right back where I started and that just is how it is right now.

My most prominent thought is to walk away; return to the life I had before Christ. In that life, I didn't know real happiness and joy so therefore, I wasn't always so down even though I always was, but didn't know better. I reach out to people--family, friends; and am met with silent phone messages, or invitations out of guilt or acceptance because certain people aren't going to be there. While my arms wide out aren't chopped off, they sure are getting heavy, and I feel like I should just pull them in and be.

I dunno anymore.

The Road Not Taken--I AM

In response to another blog I'm following, I thought I'd post this poem I wrote that coincides with my fellow blogger's blog. While written at a different time and for other reasons, God works in many ways and at many times and I thought I'd share this with y'all.

The Road not Taken (adaptation)

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
And, whoa, which do I take?

Confused and anxious, I saw a figure
Couldn't tell what the figure was--a man? Woman?
I inquired--"who...are you?"
I AM, is what the figure said.
He went on--"daughter, I feel your soul--
Be not afraid, and trust in me."

But--what about the things I was taught
And the friends that I thought I knew deeply--
I'm so confused--tired of being told what to do, believe.
"I AM and will always be--trust in me, and you will be given
The truth, the light and all that I desire for you."

"Take your path--believe in me--I AM at your side--
Through it all, and forever more;
Do not be anxious; do not be afraid of the world,
Family, friends;
I AM and will always be.
Your mind is mine, and I know your soul;
All that you seek shall be given unto you;
For I will always love you."

Still confused, I continued to walk
Feeling a bit more confident
Feeling that presence
That I cannot fully explain nor understand.
I AM and will always be.

Written 7/21/09, adapted from A Road Not Taken by Robert Frost, dedicated and inspired by one that I truly care about.

URL and Random Musings

So, nobody has asked, but it's been on my mind to explain the URL that I've chosen for this site. In my early years of writing "poetry" and reading a lot of Stephen King, I came across an author "Richard Bachman" and liked his writing as well. Lo and behold, it was Stephen King using a pen name; I thought to myself--nifty, I like that. I've always liked the name 'Micheal' so I started with that. I kept my middle initial, and 'Peters' just seemed to flow with Micheal J. And that is where Micheal J Peters comes from--it is me, just a pen name--an eccentricity of myself.

Anyway, onto my random musings. I've been reading a book, and have come across a few excerpts I'd post and leave for comment.

"Nothing makes our lives so hectic as changing residences. All the packing and unpacking robs us of any possible time for constructive solitude. Further, this feeds a cultural narcissism. Each move trunicates our relationships and leaves us to face the future alone. It is axiomatic that we turn inward and therefore become ego centered, focusing almost entirely on our own small world. The larger world of social relationships takes second place."

"One of my favorite writers speaks of what he calls 'decidophobia': the fear of making decisions. Decidophobia may not only make us afraid of making decisions, it may compel us into a busy life-style that keeps us running from the necessity of making decisions."

"Little turtle, who has turned you upside down? Did you come into the open once too often? Did life find you out?"

"There's so much good in the worst of us and so much bad in the best of us that it hardly behooves the most of us to talk about the rest of us."

"I have discovered an interesting thing about selfish people. They do not feel loved. In fact, the more selfish they are, the less loved they feel; and the less loved they feel, the more selfish they become."

These are random musing's that caught my eye for various reasons that I'll elaborate on if requested.

Crackle, crackle

On a sunny, brisk day, I sat there with my back to a crackling fire heating the little expanse that I call home. Plunking away on the black and white "ivory" keys, my mind is taken to many different places, some are wonderous musings, others are glim snapshots of the past. Under a cloud of oppression that is seemingly ready to break open, I pray to God to let the spiritual winds just blow this away.

As I played through the first part of Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata", the gloominess was ever present, but as the song played out, there were moments, highlights if you will, of streaks of Sun coming through. A rather slow piece, filled with shots of excitement, I'm reminded of much of my past as I trudge forward with the present. Moving on to other pieces--my fingers really seemed to move well, stroking each key in almost perfect timing, speed and accuracy--I started to feel as if I were a concert pianist. Far from that I really am, but the music was a delight to my ears and those of my cats, one healthy and chirping, and the other struggling against some sort of infirmity that thus far has been undiagnosed due to the strangeness of his symptoms.

Between the turning of the pages, a crackle highlights the silence, returning my mind back to the present, if only for a moment. As I concluded my finger exercises with Claire De Lune by DeBussy--the gleaming light shines in as the piece unfolded into a delectable, resonating fluid collection of notes all merging together to form a pleasant, unraveling solitude that reminds me of my position in the world, and more importantly, my position in Christ.

Amidst the clapless finale of the piece, I am faced with hunger for a past-due lunch, and ever more crackling from the glowing, dancing flames as I veil the keys with their protective covering--onward to continue the glorious day with the looming of a cloud of nastiness seeking to rain its' drenching wretchedness upon a void in my life--or make me believe something that isn't so.

Melting Pot: Spiritual Warfare

What a facinating topic--spiritual warfare. I knew on some levels that it existed--I believe the Bible, thus I believe that the devil exists; however, I am very naive to the impact he can have on our lives. I just returned from week 2 of the class I'm in, and one of the things that I was most intrigued by was that spiritual warfare isn't just about the devil. In many ways it is, but it encompasses much more. I've heard our pastor speak about "shoot in all directions" in regards to evil or the possibility of evil, but didn't really get why. I am now understanding that quote.
From Eph 2:1-3, spiritual warfare equates to the devil and/or world and/or flesh. I generally thought that all that was bad was of the devil--and I suppose can be if boiled down far enough; but one thing I didn't fully understand is the other two aspects. I could go on and on about them, but I want to point out an interesting fact that I've learned tonight.
As we grow up, we experience "life"--sometimes through the viewpoint of others, sometimes by the viewpoints of others. As we are told not to, we tend to conform to others because we want to be "good" in their eyes, or follow what they say. I'm not attempting to pass blame, but this is one avenue where the devil uses to establish some potential life-long footholds that we will inevitably stuggle against. At some point in our past, a belief system had been established (i.e. self-beauty, self-image, habits, etc), and while not necessarily bad--they typically turn that way due to the fallen world (just look at the education system, health system: both great systems in concept, but have fallen as well). This belief system instills a program in our being (often influenced early on by the devil), but being a program in our being--continually runs w/o evil input. See Romans 7:18-25. The part where a novice like myself is that I will rebuke the devil in a particular area, but if I'm not addressing the root cause, or program--the devil just blinks an eye because I'm not doing anything to prevent the program from already running. The tough part to the solution is to identify the root program, ignore the outputs of that program, i.e. thoughts, and follow the light and utilize the sword of truth to cut up that program; now the devil will attack further because I'm hitting the nerve of the problem, and that's where I can rebuke him and lean on the Holy Spirit.
Another facet is the discernment of what is a "bad" program/thought. I've run into this much--which thoughts are "bad"/"good"--pretty much a lack of discernment. Which in some ways is good and bad. Individual discernment is tragically fallen as it leaves no accountability and straying from the flock is easy. Discernment needs to happen in community where the thing needing discerning is tested by others in that community to validate the truth or lack there of.
It's all quite interesting. Quite exciting as well. Lastly, an interesting concept of the devil: equate the devil to CO (carbon monoxide)--a silent, untastable, unsmellable, invisible force that will kill you in the right quantity.

What is Love?

Love, love--it's everywhere. But what is it--really? I understand there are several forms of love; from friend love to sibling love all the way to God's love. It seems quite unique--but I've been asked the question a number of times, "What is love", or "what does love mean to you"? I get friend love, parental love--even Agape love from God and for God, but my concern is that love that exists between members of the opposite sex, i.e. husband/wife, boyfriend/girlfriend.
While I don't fully understand what that type of love is, I think I've had it twice in my life. Consequently, both times--"love walked away", so to speak. I remember a line from the movie Independance Day--"Is there love? Then that's all you need--everything else doesn't matter." I beg to differ. Even though I've "felt" love--did I really, since I'm not sure what it really is? Is it an emotion? Feeling? A choice? Made up in our earthly mind? Currently, I'm almost leaning towards the latter, but I think in my heart of hearts, it's more of the first 3, mostly #3. Which begs the question, if it's a choice--then why does it hurt so much when "love leaves?" In turn, that's why I think it's an emotional response to the other person. But what if your emotions are all over the board and you cannot grip the feelings from them--what then?
I know God gave us free-will so we could choose to love Him. So it's a choice then?? If it's a choice, then how do people "fall in love"? That would seem to indicate it's some hole that we fall into based on emotions. Circular argument--what if your emotions are wacked. I've talked with several people on this getting several responses deriving the synopsis that I need to define what it is to me--aww crap. Perhaps.
My beliefs at the moment say to me that love is a choice as well as an emotion and feeling. I don't really know how to explain the emotional/feeling side of it that well w/o it sounding needy or possessive, but a choice. The choice to love someone. That would seem to leave a lot of room for failure based on other choices I've made and then changed. Ooh, that would be damaging--change love to not love...umm. I suppose it could happen--and probably does. For me though, I think the choice of love is more related to current, daily life. I choose to love Ms./Mrs. YYY today because of X,Y,Z. In an argument, I still choose to love her because it's that love that binds us together more. Tough love I suppose. The choice to love someone even if they've hurt or offended you--I think that is more the choice. Stick with it or run from it. Granted, not all love is tough--there must be moments of "peaceful" love. (hopefully more than less) But I'm sure I've only sampled what love really is in this context. From the sample though--I sure would enjoy more of it--but, well--that choice doesn't seem to be offered at the present time. So now, I guess I get to meddle with the thought of it--choice. Emotion. Feeling. All three are related I think--but what is it really? I've felt anger--I know that one; really wanted to rip someone's head off--I get that. Maybe I attest too much faith in love--like some magical glue that'll hold the relationship together; well, like I pointed out--that bond broke twice (maybe I need stronger glue??). Not really 100% sure--pretty sure it exists, since God is Love and He created it--it's out there--somewhere. Anyone know where I can find it?

Screwtape and Wormwood: Who are they?

Hi all,
I was planning my next entry to be about the URL I chose for this blog and open up discussion on "love." However, my heart changed a bit as I was studying for a class I'm taking through WHC--a spiritual warfare class. I came across an excerpt from my reading, which is an excerpt from The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis. For those of us who don't know, Screwtape is a powerful, well experienced devil training his nephew Wormwood into the ways of becoming a powerful devil.
"My dear Wormwood...Even if a particular train of thought can be twisted so as to end in our favor, you will find that you have been strengthening in your patient the fatal habit of attending to universal issues and withdrawing his attention from the stream of immediate sense experiences. Your business is to fix his attention on the stream. Teach him to call it "real life" and don't let him ask what he means by "real"...Never having been a human, you don't realize how enslaved they are to the pressure of the ordinary."
I've taken up interest in spiritual warfare for a number of reasons--one, being that as a Christian, it's my duty to fight these principalities in my life and in others. Another of the reasons is that I believe my life was recently, and greatly, affected by "real life" causing a large change in my mindset on myself and life. I wouldn't say I've become unfixed on God--but I even went to a point of just giving up. I'm thankful I didn't--but I'm still left in ruins trying to understand it all. God has been teaching me much, and healing me a ton; but I'm still left with the why's and how's and can I do anything more? While it's too late to correct what had happened, I can pray and keep the reins of control in God's hands. It's just so disturbing to me that those also affected by this recent, prolonged attack aren't on guard and in effect--giving satan the victory by not rebuking it.
I know it's not an easy fight--I'm plagued with it daily; but I am learning. Keeping my focus on what is real and not the perceived real is a challenge; and the thoughts that go along with it are even more troublesome to sort out--is that real or is that "real"? I know the absolute answer is God--trust in Him, remain in Him, etc. etc., but as a seeker of knowledge and understanding, what do I do with my head? It would be nice to exchange it for a "clean" one--but my soul would inevitably corrupt that one as well. I know what I seek and I strive for it daily--but then, what do I do about something I seek and cannot control the outcome even when I know God is heavily involved? Nevermind the whirlwind of thoughts that go with it, and the analyzing of those thoughts just adds more thoughts--whoosh, a hurricane is born.
All I do now is push the thoughts aside, negating any of them any amount of truth/deceit--releasing me from the hurricane--but I know that isn't the answer either. I give it to God constantly--but yet, I'm still deceived and take it back under the lie that those thoughts are "real" and I need them. It's a mystery--one that I may never solve--and even that bugs me too. Errg. I'm sure this isn't the end of this topic, but it ends this entry.

What I do: seek

Seeking. What does that mean? I entitled my blog as "Seeking" because that is what I am; it is what I do; it is an attempt to utlizie the gifts granted me to further the Kingdom; it is attempting to follow Christ and resist the enemy; it is an active-passive role; it keeps me off the permanent couch and into the arms of the world.

Some seek a more passive-active role, defined in many ways--contentment, waiting, listening, etc. While all are equally good and none better than the other, I chose to seek, while others are less prone to seeking. I don't just sit around thinking and watching--I do these things, yes--but I'm usually wrapped up in something else too; something that is probably helping me sustain a worldly life while my heart is seeking an eternal one. I seek to repay my debt and attempt to not incur more; I seek to further my knowledge instead of letting it go to mush; I seek to better the life I have so that I can be polished and honed by God into a pleasing child to him--even though I already am (that's more of a self-obsessive thought); I seek to find my Eve; I seek His healing; I seek to make my friendships solid and meaningful and not just some name to a face that I see every so often--but even a verbal friendship is a treasured gem, it doesn't all have to be physical.

I continue to seek and I'm continually trying; failing. I fall off the Horse of Christ, into the cesspool of stinky, decaying mud; and even get stamped into it by those that seek me because of Him. In my hurt and pain, my Horse pulls me from the mud; drags me across the fresh, leafy-laden ground--not looking anything like I am--and washes me off at the Trough of Life, ready for me to be carried onward. It's not a simple ride; I have to seek to hold on; I have to seek to remain atop that Horse amidst the thorny branches and low-hanging limbs; I have to seek the confidence that He knows that I don't; I have to seek His love and then share it. I don't proclaim to be great at seeking--I get astray far too often; but in those wanderings, I realize the importance of those things I sought, for I cannot live without them even though I don't always feel like I'm worthy of them.

It's an active role--not one that i chose to give up amidst the faults it contains and failures I've made. In some of my seeking--I do have to wait; sometimes enjoying the ride is part of the seeking--it doesn't always have to be a challenge even though I can make it that way. But it does involve constant persistence and an ever changing mind and heart; for I believe that God wants me to always be seeking and not just chewing on my nails.

Introduction/Invitation

So...first fact about myself--I enjoy writing. I saw some friends that posted these things called "Blogs" and it was a neat idea. I'm not much for technology and this whole internet thing is just a blur for me--whatever happened to the good ol' telephone call or family/friend gathering? Now we blog, text, twitt, facebook and the like to communicate. Kind of like closet hermits--wanting to get out, but preferring to stay home.

Well, I'm no closet hermit. I actually love the out-of-doors: cold or hot. But, I've been prompted by friends that I should write things out--that it may help me solve things about myself. So, avoiding the whole journal thing--I'll blournal it instead. I invite comments and criticism as you please--I'm hoping to spark some conversation or add some insight to the thoughts playing racquetball in my head. I'm not sure how often I'll enter things here; but as time permits or the desire remains, I'll do so. Thanks for visiting--perhaps I'll hear from you in the future.