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've been thinking about brokenness and what that means to a Christian. It's easy to think about this concept because I don't have to look far. I am a broken man. These are some of my thoughts.  It is clear my past relationships and jobs and other things were just a cover for a lot of childhood trauma. My sadness took hold in my childhood, and I looked for things in my life to blame for that sadness. I may have even self-sabotaged in order to do that. Whatever the case, I feel I've been a broken man most of my life.  The good news is, God can use that brokenness. Psalm 34:18 states God is near the brokenhearted and saves those of a contrite spirit. Automatically, God is closer to me than those who are not broken or do not admit their brokenness. However I may have gotten here, I'm here. There's more, though. Brokenness is often an outcome of walking with Jesus. Matthew 21:44 says that whoever falls on the rock (Jesus) will be broken, but on whomever the...

This would be accurate if I had friends. Or a friend. I've begun to see myself as a rescue dog. Bear with me. This actually makes sense. No, I'm not an actual dog, but I do bear a lot of the same scars and history as an abused dog that finds a new home (which I haven't yet, but I'm trying). Add to that some of my behaviors and vulnerabilities, and it's really the same challenges a rescue dog has. Apparently, trauma translates well across species. Normally, I wouldn't joke about suicide, so I won't. I'm not joking. It's been something I've wanted to do most of my life, say, 35 years. People always gang up on those who take their own lives, saying they're not thinking of those they leave behind. You're absolutely right; they're not thinking of anyone but themselves. Imagine pain so intense, pervasive, and constant the only plausible solution is taking one's life. You cannot see beyond that kind of pain to anyone else's po...

I wrote this post to myself. It wasn't intended to help anyone other than me, but if it helps someone else, then okay. I've gone through life trying to avoid being triggered by bad memories. As I sit here, I can cough up quite a few, but those are merely at the surface. I can recall the time my dad and I built a crude birdfeeder, which I hung pretty low (so I could fill it) on my favorite ponderosa tree. My brother later told me he would take the BB gun and go up to birds feeding on it and blow them away at point-blank range. I stopped refilling it. My dad probably thought it was a waste of time to help me build it. Then there's the time I was playfully snatching popcorn from the giant bowl my ex sat down with next to me. There was literally popcorn for ages, but she got upset and threw the whole damn bowl on me because it was her popcorn . And, of course, there are other and numerous romantic heartbreaks, which seem to be the gift that keeps on giving.  All of t...

It's hard to explain what goes on inside our heads. We can talk all day long, but if those we talk to have no experience with the weirdness that's so familiar to us, then it's no use. I have struggled most of my life with what I perceive as normal and my inability to be normal (but I insist normal does not exist). Around the age of 30, I decided it was a fruitless endeavor and nearly impossible to change my core personality or ensconced behaviors.  Years ago, I read a book about the power of being an introvert. It made sense, and it even stated that most people in this world are introverts (about 60 percent), but most will not self-identify as introverts. The trouble with being an introvert is we are often undervalued, especially in American culture, where the extrovert rules. And an introvert in America looks very different from an introvert in, say, the United Kingdom. That's the influence of culture.  Every personality type has things that exhaust and ...