my careless contagion

This is the time and space where I'm supposed to talk about what I learned in the three years running this blog. I'm supposed to say how much I've grown (groan) or whatever. So, I guess we'll do that. I'd like to say a lot changed, but that never seems to be the case. I should have moved quickly in any given direction, but I felt God was telling me to wait. Instead, I got bogged down in a morass of self-pity. Maybe it was necessary to stand still and heal, but with blood in the water, it was an open invitation to the sharks that swam around me. Unfortunately, I learned how cruel, pathetic, and unsympathetic people can be when one is trying to heal. I also learned they will blame you for something you didn't do just because. It makes me wonder if it does any good to try to live an upright life if I'm just going to be treated like a criminal. But that's not me. That's my disillusionment talking. Prepare for a long read.  This blog is pedagogical in nat...

This post was generated from reading this article on child abuse/trauma . Before I start talking about that, let me say this, speaking of Jesus Chris: " But he  was  wounded for our transgressions,  he was  bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace  was  upon him; and with his stripes we are healed." (Isaiah 53:5) Victims of child abuse often feel they are to blame. Eventually, they may concede they were not to blame for being abused. If you still wonder, let me reiterate: you are not to blame. But the last part is what I want to focus on. Healing is possible through what Jesus Christ did at Calvary. Healing is part of the package that includes salvation and deliverance that was bought with a precious price. God wants us all to heal.  I read the above article (perhaps I've posted it here previously, too) on Jan. 6. I felt God told me something that night about my situation. Without going into detail, I'm still praying about that and tru...

I don't know if anyone is still reading here. If not, that's fine. But this post is something I rarely do. I'm asking for prayer. If anyone reading here prays and has a moment, please say a prayer for me because I am not doing well, even relative to how I am normally.  Backing up a bit, I feel God gave me a directive Jan. 6, which I immediately requested a confirmation thereof and believed I got the same night. I won't say exactly what either of those things were because I feel I've been wrong to do that sort of thing in the past. It is embarrassing if or when either 1) it becomes clear I haven't heard God's voice or 2) I am not able to perform what I feel God told me to do. So, I will leave the details out and simply ask for prayer regarding this situation. I need to know if I heard God's voice and because of past experiences, I'm unsure if I'm hearing the right voice. That puts me in a rather bad position, but my prayer is God will open the doo...

  Parker McCollum made a pretty song (with requisite country twang) in Pretty Heart . The last time I heard it, I was getting my hair cut. I have heard it many times, and every time, I think of a particular man and a particular woman, and the things that man should say to that woman. I wished many times he would have turned around, repented of breaking her pretty heart so many ways for so many years, and put their lives back together. I prayed that literally thousands of times. No, that man is not me, though I wish he was because that woman would say yes in an instant if she heard the right words from the right man. I have the words, and he is the man. We just have to put those things together. If I could, I would tear my heart from my chest and replace that man's heart. I would take the words that exist in my mind and put them in his. I would sacrifice myself to put that man and woman back together, if I could. And he would say those precious words and do those necessary things. T...

It's always windy in Wyoming. It's always something but me and her, which is all I ever thought I would need. The weather is like a woman, and like a specific woman. It's never the same, but it's always there, reminding you that you live in her world; she does not live in yours. Like the wind, she tore past you, went through you, left you alone, wondering and waiting and lost. The weather changes quickly, and so did she when she went right through you. But, unlike the weather, she changed you, humbled you, and made you hers. Like the weather, she reminds you that you are almost insignificant, and she can warm you or chill you to the bone, but it isn't because she cares or does not. Like the weather, she is what she is. You prepare for her. She doesn't even notice you. The wind does not want or need or even know you are there. It does what it does. You can't even see the wind, but you know it is there. I wait for her to shine on me again, just like the sun on...