Christ Animated

What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. Or hurts, maims, scars, and disfigures you. Let's be honest - pain hurts. I'm allergic to pain. We all can put up with some level of pain; we all have a certain threshold for it. Some have higher thresholds, others lower, but we all can put up with a certain level of it.  Those hospital "pain scales", where you try to describe your pain according to the level of stress depicted on the smiley faces on the chart ... aren't really all that helpful. "How bad is your pain, sir?" Hmm. "1" looks like I'm not in pain at all, just happy to be here, really. "10" is the worst pain in my life. Is this really the worst I've ever felt? Well, it hurt really bad when that car fell on me, and I'm pretty sure that being stepped on by an elephant or being bitten by a hippopotamus would be worse than this spike in my arm, so ... "Five?" How bad is the emotional pain I&

Today is Sunday, and I've been to only two church services and one Bible study class. It's usually two classes, and sometimes a third service. Sitting here now, in my chair in my room, typing away on this blog, and Skype-texting my son at the same time. Yeah, I know it's not really called "Skype-texting", but who cares? Had a pretty good week this past week. Took my other son to see Underoath in concert in Houston (bought tickets months ago, before moving to Mississippi), on their final (now completed) tour. Then we visited for a day with my daughters and college-age son (the Skype-ee above), before coming back to MS with another truck load of stuff. God has been good to us! Most of the time, now, I feel there is hope for the days ahead. The despair in my depression has lifted a great deal, and I'm learning to cope with the "issues". Some doors are closed, locked, and keys discarded ... I won't be going back those ways, again. Other doors

Sad Love Songs I must admit, I rather enjoy sad love songs. You know the ones – songs that talk about love lost, love missed, love misused, mistreated, and so on. Or the sweet love songs that nevertheless sound sad, because of how they’re performed. I am in misery, there ain’t nobody that can comfort me Why won’t you answer me? The silence is slowly killing me [1] I have died every day, waiting for you Darling, don’t be afraid – I have loved you for a thousand years I’ll love you for a thousand more [2] If happy-ever-afters did exist I would still be holding you like this All those fairy tales are full of it Another stupid love song, I’ll be sick [3] I've forgotten you I've forgotten every single time you kissed me I don't miss it like you think I do I've forgotten you How you held me and it felt like it's what you were born to do If I lie enough, it might come true I've forgotten you [4] I wish that I had m

It's a shame to know that, even though I've sent the link for this blog to virtually everyone I know, pretty much no one reads it. I guess that frees me up to write almost anything I want, since no one will see it. After I'm dead and gone, when someone runs across a poem or story I've written, or a drawing or something with my name attached, or sees that I served in such-and-such a position in such-and-such a ministry at some point in the distant past, they might become curious enough about who that guy was that they 'Google' me. If they do so, and this blog still exists at that point (or an archived version thereof), then someone may actually read what I wrote here. In that case, maybe I should be careful. Here's a poem, written as I type this, for myself (my sole follower): I write this poem just for me Mine, the only eyes that may ever see The beauty of the poetic lines That flow from my fingertips and mind I write this poem not for you F

Well, this is day ... whatever ... in our process of divorce. I've been counseled to write more in this season of my life, in order to both process my own thoughts and feelings and to possibly help someone else in their own struggles. Let me be completely honest here. It seems almost counter-productive to me to attempt to be a help to anyone else while I am in the midst of the valley myself. That being said, I have had many long conversations with people who are going through the same things. We are somewhat of an encouragement to one another, it would seem. It's encouraging, at the very least, to be reminded we are not alone in our struggles. These light momentary afflictions, the Apostle Paul called them. What is my depression compared to the suffering of Christ? Though never depressed, Jesus understood sorrow, grief, and longing. Jesus cried out to God the Father, praying in the garden of Gethsemane, and asked if there were some other way to accomplish the will of Go