Showing posts with label Blues. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blues. Show all posts

Friday, April 18, 2014

Castles Made of Sand...




If there was an apt description of what the past calendar year would look like, 2013 could best be described as a heavy wave washing away every single thing I built on my little beach called life. With the exception of my children (and even that was washed away as it related to Youngest Heir), and a few scattered allies, NOTHING remains. To give a more vivid picture if the sandcastle example isn't enough, my city (life) looks like Hiroshima after the bomb was dropped. However, I think the image of the sandcastle is most appropriate if for no other reason there is a certain theological context that I will explore. 

But more on that in a minute.

So what did this tidal wave of destruction take in 2013? What exactly was washed into the sea? A number of things which were integral to my existence and happiness: My church home, my best friend, the one person I truly loved and desired, my job, my emotions, my natural home, and in some cases my faith. I'm sure in time these things can be replaced. There will be other jobs and a career from it, my faith is already slowly being restored due to my time in Seminary. Another Church home can be found, new allies made, and even as painful as it is to type, the love I lost (or gave away) can be replaced. I even will have a better place to live. So that's good. Yet that still doesn't explain the why. Why all that transpired happened. There are two simple reasons for this: one spiritual and one not so spiritual. Let's explore them both.


The first and most obvious reason was that on some level God either caused the storm or allowed it to happened. I believe the reason for this is that God needed to see what my infrastructure was made up of in a barren season. In order to achieve this, like so many men of faith before me, God had to make me Anonymous. You see according to Alicia Britt Chole, author of Anonymous: Jesus' Hidden Years and Yours, every so often God needs to see what our roots and branches look like. God needs to see how sturdy we are and thus the excess in our lives (think tree leaves: are stripped away. Once my coverings and trappings were gone, would I survive this test or would I crumble. At the core lie two simple questions that would yield two simple answers: 1) On what ground did I build my faith and 2) Where did I store my treasures?  To the first, the honest answer are that I built my home/faith on sand. I did not obey God in a lot of areas in spite of being sent messengers, signs, and instructions. The response to the second question is even more direct: my treasures stored were no where near heaven. They were in that unstable beach house I put on the sand. In effect, I had become lazy. My infrastructure weak and bloated; like a corrupt city entity I had become self serving and began to take Christ for granted. Thus in essence while I was sprouting leaves I bore no fruit. As the scripture points out, I needed to be put in a whole lot of manure in order to grow. There was no better way to cover me in the mess I needed than to remove the sand castles I was hiding in. But I knew better. On these matters Jesus is clear where to build your home and where to store your treasures. So snarky one reading this, since there are NO social promotions in the Kingdom of God, since there are no sliding or curves I get to rebuild. This time one proper ground and storing my treasures where they belong. 


The second reason is more natural but no less true. Nothing was really taken from me. By not following the instructions in the manual I willingly gave it away. I was not supposed to return to my church. I was supposed to move on. I was supposed to do my best in Arkansas, I got lazy. I was supposed to be more mindful of the needs of my allies and our joint boundaries and I wasn't. I should have never let her go. But I did. I should have told EVERYBODY to fudge off and begged her forgiveness but I didn't. I chose people and a space that is now long gone. Mine was one of hubris. Mine was thinking I knew best. It was the never ending fatal flaw that has brought me to ruin before: arrogance. Nothing was really taken. I gave it all away by not following the rules. This is the truth I take to bed every night.


But what do I do with these realizations? While it is true, I survived, but as one who survived the fire (or in this case a typhoon). But survival isn't necessarily what all this is about. This is about a mature Christian using bad materials, on bad ground, which happened to store his treasures that got washed into the sea.  So the first realization that I need to rebuild, following the instructions laid out. I don't know what's best all the time, if ever really and by not following the plan I'm going to continually get my ish washed into the sea. Yet an underlying theme to in this is something I never really allowed myself to do: grieve. Part of the reason I came out of blog retirement is to write these pure lamentations so I can later write songs of jubilee. It is time that I deal with all the pain in my life; it's especially time I dealt with all the residual scars, the crushed dreams, the guilt and the utter sadness. That's what I am putting on my cross this Good Friday. This is what I am burying in that tomb so that on Sunday I can rise a different man. But I understand the process of the crucifixion. This hurts. It means part of me will have to die so the rest of me can rise. We all have to go through it in some form or another...

For me this process involved learning one simple truth:

"Castles made of sand...slip into the sea....eventually"

Giving Honor to My Creator, who is forever praised, Amen

In Truth and Transparency,
Straight, No Chaser
TLT
4/18/2014
8:56pm

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Hump Day Blues......

It's Hump Day.

I have the blues.

It's raining.

My work contract still hasn't been renewed.

The Joker keeps mocking me on that game

Oh and did I mention it's raining?

I've come to hate the rain now

It used to be a sign of beautiful things

But now each drop serves as a reminder of this battle...this...on.going.struggle.to.be.heard

Fairly...

The Joker keeps mocking me cause I cant find Dr.Young. Sick bastard.

The stress of not knowing if I will be kept or not.

Why cant people, personal and professional, answer in a timely manner.

Bills wont wait till September 30th

And it won't stop raining.

Mother nature is an evil bitch. She probably laughs too...

Did I mention my blog was a source of contention

Got an email from an upset ex...whatever..not woman, tired of my words.

Yet my words keep the bottle out of my hand; keep my eyes dry

Oh that's right TLT aint supposed to be hurt.

I guess my words bring the pain that is difficult

Or repressed

or complex

Or intense

or passionate

Or ignored

to the surface.

Cute.

But since the night, all I've had was this pen...

it frees my mind...keeps "him" away and the voices silent.

The pen..got me through the Night when Nicole broke up our potential family for a high school love

The pen...got me through the confusion of the Second Renaissance when Soror/Sage had enough

and had to move on...while I healed

The pen...is getting me through the crisis when the one I so love

doesn't think so

or understand so

or believe so

The pen is with me on the ocean, in those lonely nights, when voices are there...

And I am half crazy....

The pen has helped my broken wings, become Beautiful wings...

even when I gotta fill out my prescription....

The pen reminds me when I forget

We're not in love anymore..

Or we're not speaking on it.

The pen has helped me with Generals

Who rebel

Who are hurt

Who can't heal

and rightfully so.....

The Pen encourages me to fight even as I tell others not to fight

Or when people tell me my fight is fruitless...

or to leave her/it/that alone

that all under heaven can't be obtained

to

But the pen is stronger than the sword..

It protects my heart from the cold world

The pen keeps me from ninja kicking my boss

When he talks out of body at me like I am 5

And comforts me as I weep at night

Ooops I said cry. The Prime Minister doesn't weep

But TLT does

And hard

And ugly

I want to weep now

But can't weep in front of CHA kids

I'll lose their respect

Or maybe earn more

At least it stopped raining.

But I shouldn't hate the rain.

Ruffin said rain drops will hide my teardrops

Then maybe I should go outside and cry

And Scream and Shout

And ask Jehovah for help...

But no I pick up the Pen...

And I write, as I have always done

Straight, No Chaser
TLT
8-26-2009
9:56am

*posted at 3:03pm...thanks rough day*