my careless contagion

First, thank you to the Lord for everything that happened this year. God uses everything, even the worst. Learned things. Feel different. More stable. And doing well, even feel mostly healed. Didn't do anything special except waited on God. I have zero ill will for anyone, including myself. Just thankful for blessings and enjoying life (I work outside, so sometimes the weather makes it hard, but a hot bath at the end of the day makes up for it). Looking forward. Making plans, God willing. Staying out of trouble. I know, boring. For anyone who prayed for me, thank you. If you didn’t, well, at least you didn’t pray against me. 😊  Now, the question of the unsent letters to the woman’s ex and kids. I did due diligence to pray, fast, and listen to the Lord.  Based on the information I have, looking at it carefully and logically, the conclusion was I was not to blame for the separation or divorce of the woman I was involved with. She made those decisions independently and for ...

Leave it to me to have further thoughts and no one with whom to share. Until I have a reliable confidante, I will dump here.  Been listening to podcasts and sermons lately on my walks and during work. Interesting one from Derek Prince about the fear of the Lord . He stated that what we fear is our god. It could be anything. I looked inside and realized my personality is designed to protect my wounds, and being wounded was the thing I feared the most, as evidenced by what happened two months ago. I was like Job with the thing he greatly feared.  So much energy was directed at protecting myself I often neglected to follow through with normal Christian behavior, loving those around me, giving of myself, dying to self, etc. Given this revelation, it is sinful to act or react based on the needs of my wound or trauma. That means my recent reaction was sinful. It was an ugly realization, and I prayed God would change my personality if necessary. I also apologize to the one I hurt. I ...

Here's a game I've yet to win: the blame game. By now, you're all probably convinced I'm just a whiney old, white guy. That may be true, but some of my complaints come from a very real place and exist without the aid of hyperbole.  A while ago, I mentioned the incident when I was in the third or fourth grade when the kid tackled me and beat me up on the playground. I wasn't fighting, but I got detention anyway (which was later reversed). How was I supposed to get away? I don't know. The whole thing was insane. But it wasn't the first time something like that happened, and it wasn't the last.  This isn't an in-depth post about blame and self-blame. It's just a few examples from my life so you get the idea of what I've dealt with. I was sitting around one day, thinking about stuff, and started to connect some dots. It was a moment of clarity in my otherwise clouded thought life.  One January day my junior year in high school, my mom an...

I don't know which is more brutal, my heart or my mind. They take turns pummeling me, berating me, striking me down, and dragging me through the streets of regret.  I'm so sorry. I never should have let this happen. If God would let me restore what I've taken from you, I would — 700 fold.  I feel sick to my stomach every single day considering what I've done. I've sought God with tears night and day and in the middle of the night for a way to put you and your family back together, to bind up these broken hearts, to heal the wounded spirits. My hands are so short, and the answers seem just out of reach.  My dear, I love you too much to have hurt you like this, to have taken anything from you. All I wanted was to add more to your life. Instead, I've broken it like a beast. Like a murderer, I've injected your lives with suffering. I've taken the best things — the nearest and dearest things to you — and I've slit their throats before y...