my careless contagion

I wrote this a bit ago. Not sure when. It’s weakly written but heartfelt. I’m not the most eloquent writer, but God gave me a gift to express my heart. To write about a woman who came back into my life 5 years ago and left four and a half years ago may seem silly to some, but they don’t see my heart like God does.  I feel the need to explain my long-running affection for a woman. I know she’s gone. Trust me, I know. But phooey on that. I still think she’s the best thing since sliced butter. Or diced bread. Or buttered bread. Whatever. She’s the bee’s knees. A godly woman like no other. The virtuous woman described in Proverbs 31. Until someone else comes along to praise her, I will. I imagine someone will be along any day. I don’t have much time. So here goes.  If someone left your life years ago, but you still praise them, they are truly something special. What I intend to do in this post is explain to anyone who doesn't get it what I find so special about her. I will compare...

"Let the sighing of the prisoner come before thee; according to the greatness of thy power preserve thou those that are appointed to die." - Psalm 79:11 I want to relate what happened Wednesday night (Dec. 15). I consider this a testimony of God's power, protection, and love. It may frighten some readers. That is not my intention. Sometimes we have to see the power of the enemy and how God triumphs over it in order to deepen our faith. I praise God for His protection.  I was on day three of a fast to break whatever is preventing me from moving forward in multiple ways in my life. I was praying for victory. The day went well. My son was sick, so I spent the day watching TV with him. At one point we went for a walk, as it was 65 degrees but knew a storm was coming later. Everyone was in good spirits. My son was getting better and eating food like a horse. He took a bath, and then it was my turn.  I read my Bible (including Psalm 79) and another book while in the bath. Nothi...

Broken Bow, Nebraska. I moved there when I was 10 years old and moved away at 19. I saw a lot of changes in 9 years. I decided to take a trip there since I had some time and wanted to see if I could kick up anything from the past.  Sure, a lot of things came to mind. I started to recall some stuff right away. Some good, some bad. Some I wasn't sure what to do with. There certainly are some patterns that were set down here that persisted during my life, patterns for good and bad. I started reading my Bible as a boy in the house on the corner. I read that children's Bible until I bought my own. I used to play with my friend Geoff who lived next door. When I was told we were moving, I was watering my garden out back. I was told I could have another garden. I did. It was better, too. Sometimes change is hard, even if we're sure something will be better than what we have now. I'm still learning that.  We played basketball and football and baseball at that house. We had water...

Recent events reminded me of this song by Bad Religion. Leave Mine to Me was released in 1994 on the album Stranger Than Fiction. A lot of things changed since then. Maybe you've noticed. But Bad Religion's songs have an uncanny ability to predict the future. A line of the song stuck out to me: "You create your own reality, and leave mine to me." What does that have to do with recent events? And what does that have to do with me?  Facebook recently changed its corporate name to Meta to "reflect its growing focus on the metaverse." The metaverse is something that doesn't even exist in everyday reality. So what's the big deal? It's a bunch of virtual worlds. If people didn't already live in their own little bubbles, they will soon. Why? Because reality sucks, as the song points out. If you want to escape reality and make your own virtual reality, that's an option. Many people already do with their online presence. They've tuned out the ...

The food here has more variety. And all the restaurants are pretty good, as far as I can tell. Asian. Mexican. Whatever you want. There is even an Indian restaurant down the road. And, if you want to go further, there are shops! Grocery stores that stock Asian, Indian, and Mexican food. I used to go to Lincoln when I was in high school, and I always perused the Asian stores on O Street. I love those places, though I'm less adventurous now. One time I bought some shrimp thinking I would cook them, but then the shopkeepers asked where I was going fishing with the shrimp. So, I guess most bought shrimp as bait. So I went fishing. It was terrible bait. Should have eaten it. Or maybe the fish knew something I didn't.   I don't know why, but people here like to honk. Like, hey, we are all driving as safely as we can. Chill the heck out. You live in Kearney, Nebraska, not New York. Trust me, you have nowhere to go. The old lady you're honking at is now flustered and will proba...

Twenty-two notebooks. These are they. Twenty-two notebooks of my writings going back to 1995 or 1996 (I started writing on yellow legal paper) up until 2017 or 2018. Why am I bringing this up? I'm glad you asked, faithful reader. Because those notebooks I just threw out. Herein is another prayer, full of hope and expectancy.  I asked God about what might be tying me to sad emotions, unhappiness, etc. Whatever was stealing my joy, I wanted to get rid of. If you leaf through those notebooks, you'll see why I got rid of them. It was full of trauma, pain, and endless emoting over past hurt. I was attempting to grapple with the sad state of my life, my childhood, etc. There is even a note in there about how my brother grabbed my hand so hard it bled. This was after I left home, mind you. I don't need those things anymore. Is this symbolic? Perhaps. And it might mean something more to throw them out. If there is anything connected with those notebooks that is pulling me in a sad ...

I'm going to share something briefly. It has been on my heart for a long time, longer than this blog has existed. I haven't shared much of my spiritual journey. But I've taken a hard line in the spirit world, which has generated a lot of energy around (and in) me. I've gathered a lot of spiritual opposition over the years because I am faithful to pray against the devil's plans. I am a warrior. This makes me a marked man, unfortunately. Recently, I asked a friend why my life has been so difficult, going way back, and they replied, "Because you are marked." They get it. But there is more. Jesus Christ was anointed with the oil of gladness above all His fellows, which means He was the happiest man to walk the earth. My fasting recently is directed at what is blocking my life from moving forward. I felt heavy resistance for years. Bondage. Oppression. Unhappiness. It might be something in me or some sort of spiritual oppression around me. Or both. The devil wi...

I wrote these as separate posts but decided to combine them. Neither of them were finished. An explanation at the end.  This is an exploratory post. And a prayer. Bear with me. This post involves someone near and dear. I may or may not be correct about anything I write, but my intention is to understand her. She has been through so much. Our past experiences color reality and expectations for the future. It is with great tenderness that I explore this sensitive subject. The girl I write about is a survivor of domestic abuse. How many different ways she was mistreated I will never know, as she holds these things out of sight. My heart feels some of those things, though, because a part of her is in me. I understand, I think, a little of what she went through. I pray God helps me understand her completely. Truly, when I prayed to understand her years ago, the Lord gave me two books to read (one I read twice), which led me to fall further in love with her. I feel like I understand her ...