Fighting the Janus Syndrome

Janus is the Roman god of gates and doors, starts and endings, and beginnings and transitions. He is typically depicted in mythology, sculpture, and art as a two-faced figure, looking both to the future, and to the past.  The Janus Syndrome refers to a person who is continually looking to their glorious past, or to their potentially glorious future at the expense of missing their glorious present. Too often, I find myself doing just this – especially when the current circumstances are difficult, unpleasant, or uninteresting.

            Curiously, I didn’t know that there was a science-fiction book by the name of “The Janus Syndrome” written by Stephen McDonald,  or that other people had actually used the term “Janus Syndrome” to describe their struggle with living in the present, but they’re out there, and only a Google search away. What I do find interesting however, is that the title of this post would come to me unbidden, and with its concepts clearly laid out in my mind. I find myself longing for my less-complicated past, while waiting every day for things to get better and improve. 

           

What was so great about it? Looking at my past

            My past was much less complicated than my present. I owe this to being more trusting and accepting of ideals and philosophies thrust at me with conviction and fervor. As a child I was raised in a highly religious community that almost made it impossible to have a life without participating in that religion. Everything from your circle of friends at school, to your employment opportunities were often guided by and acted upon the religious community in which you lived. Lack of participation was frowned upon, while over-participation was seen as an admirable thing. Independent thinking and questioning of the status-quo was discouraged and often viewed as the vehicle that would bring about your spiritual and cultural destruction. In fact, one leader of the religion I belonged to so strongly despised free-thinking, that he warned congregants world-wide to be careful of being “counted amongst those who have intellectualized themselves out of the church and thereby have brought upon themselves swift destruction.” Of course, he was also part of the leadership who instructed its members that “once the brethren have spoken, the thinking has been done.” How could such restrictive thinking be “less complicated?” Well, when you’re relieved of the responsibility of thinking for yourself, and simply “walk by faith,” you are free to blindly accept the consequences of such a behavior without accepting the responsibilities that came with it.

            Thankfully, I divested myself of this religion almost thirty years ago, only to willingly subject myself to another religious system which was only slightly less restrictive. While continually being encouraged to study and seek for myself what the “word of god” had to say about a subject, I was soundly shouted down or sternly corrected should my conclusions differ from those to whom I had given authority over and stewardship of in my life. Once more I found myself having my opinion given to me rather than discovering it on my own through thoughtful research and pondering. Some would call this experience jumping out of the frying pan into the fire, and I’m inclined to agree with them. But it wasn’t all bad. In fact, it was pretty comforting and satisfying to feel as though I belonged and that I was right. But what it didn’t provide was clarity or personal satisfaction.

            So why look back with longing and emotion? I look back because I no longer have the comfort and assurance of believing I was in the right, or being part of the chosen few. Those feelings have been replaced with the realization that I am responsible for myself, my own actions, my own behaviors towards others, and mostly, for my own eternal future – whatever that may be. It can be daunting at times. It can feel pretty damn heavy and overwhelming – if truth be told. I no longer have a safety net. If something goes wrong with my life, I’m responsible! I can no longer blame it on the will of some unseen god. It means I own my reality.

            Fond remembrances are a good thing. “Ah, the good old days,” means as much to me as anyone, but living in the past – continually comparing your present to your past achievements – is as debilitating as doing nothing at all. The past is the past, and the future is being made right now by your present.

What’s going to be so great then? Looking at my future

            Human beings are incurable optimists at times. It’s pounded into our thinking from a young age, and we live in the hope of a better future our entire lives. The whole, “The Sun’ll Come Out, Tomorrow” mentality is what gives us hope and helps us get through another day. In fact, I just opened my fortune cookie with dinner and it read, “Without hope, there is no tomorrow!”  So it’s not a bad thing, per-se, but it can sometimes turn our eyes away from the beauty of the moment we’re experiencing now. Sometimes, it can be downright debilitating! How many times have we put off facing our harsh realities in hopes of things improving tomorrow? I do it all the time. How often do we invest our last dollar in the hopes of winning the lottery – in spite of the tremendous odds against us hitting the jackpot? How often do we long for the return of a god to set things right? How often do we hope that maybe tomorrow the abuse will stop?

            We’ve all heard it said that when a person is “without hope”, they’re done for, or that we’d never get out of bed without the hope of a better day. We’ve all put our dreams and desires on some future event, and chances are we’ve all been disappointed for having done so. So what is the use of looking to the future? Continually investing your dreams in some future event or success only lessens your ability to see what is right before your eyes in the present. I am not suggesting that a person not invest emotionally or mentally in their futures – there is a lot of wisdom in visualizing success and then pursuing that dream – but what I am saying is that I have been guilty of looking towards that future as a means of avoiding the present, and as a means of escape. I’m no expert, but I can imagine that this isn’t too healthy.

            Of course, without dreaming of tomorrow, we’d be stagnant and unproductive. Many of the technological advancements we enjoy would never have come to pass had someone not dreamed about them in the past. Many of the life-saving medical advancements are a direct result of someone dreaming of a future without sickness, without disease, without pain and suffering. The future isn’t the problem – the avoidance of the present is, and that is why the Janus Syndrome is so dangerous.

Fighting to remain in the moment

            Because of my tendency to view my past as such a good thing, and to hope that my tomorrows are going to be so much better than my present, I find myself not participating in the here and now. I keep waiting for things to get better, or for them to change, and when they don’t, I turn back and remember how good they used to be – the Janus Syndrome.

One excellent example of this in my life is waiting until my wife graduates college and begins her practice as a nurse practitioner to begin writing seriously. I have notebooks with tons of ideas for stories in them, and they remain closed, waiting for some glorious time in the future when “the time will be right.” Conversely, when I get discouraged about not writing, I go out on the internet and re-read my blog posts and marvel at how well-written they are, and how I seemed to be really doing something with my life. Longing for a future situation while living in my past – and all the while completely ignoring what is right in front of me.

So, my way of fighting my own personal Janus Syndrome is that I am going to post this to my blog, and begin writing again. I will be able to look back at this post and be encouraged to do what I need to do now to make all those future possibilities come true. It starts with living in the now, taking it one step, one post, one task at a time, and enjoying the fruits of productivity and drive. I can do this. Thank you past, look out future.

I don't know what to call this...

I've been waking up.

Factually, I feel like I've been asleep for most of my adult life. But something is happening.

Ever have one of those days when the sound your alarm clock makes is somehow integral to your dream? You know... that persistent and repeating buzz is actually the warning klaxon letting you know you only have 20 seconds left to disarm the nuclear bomb... ARGH! IS IT THE BLUE WIRE OR THE RED WIRE! WHY CAN'T I EVER REMEMBER?!?!

Well, something has been "going off" in the back of my mind for some time now - and I'm only now realizing that it's really an alarm - not "an ALARM!!!", but a "notification" - a touch - from somewhere outside of myself. From somewhere else; from some time else.

A part of my "soul"... my "me", my "inner me" is stirring. It's stretching, yawning, and looking for its metaphysical cup of coffee... and it's pulling the covers off of my eyes and whispering quietly in my sleeping ears, "wake up sleepy head... IT is passing you by..."

Puzzle pieces are falling into place... and there is room for all of them... And pieces which I'd forced into place are flying away.

What is that buzzing in my soul? What is that gentle whisper in my mind? What is that "old" and "familiar" feeling that seems to be brushing aside cobwebs?

I don't know.

I don't know what to call this.

Maybe I'm beginning to live for the first time in a very long time.

Thoughts Post-Easter

This year was the first time that I've passed an Easter away from a church and away from a body of believers in a very long time. I did have some regret, and some longing for the days when that was the norm rather the exception. But more than anything, I felt relief.

I suppose that a little explanation is called for.

Since the debacle with "that" church, and since we shut down Shiloh, I've been increasingly aware of the fact that the majority of the people who I'd looked up to in my life, or who I always thought were good "Christian" people, were actually some of the most two-faced, evil people I've ever known. Now before you get your judgmental panties all up in a wad let me just say this - No. No? Yes, NO, I am not blaming everyone else for my lack of a Christian walk right now. And, NO, I am not saying that it's their fault that I'm not in fellowship. And finally, NO, it's not your place to judge whether, in fact, I was actually saved to begin with. THAT having been said, let me continue: After having gone through the hell we did at "that" church, and even with Shiloh, I decided that for the most part, "sinners", the unsaved, the heathens, the pagans, the unwashed masses were actually and truthfully, more forgiving, more accepting, more loving, and just kinder all around than the majority of people who confessed their undying Christ-like love for me. Perhaps that is why Jesus chose those very kinds of people to hang out with?

In all honesty, I've missed walking with God. But whenever I consider trying to find a body of believers again, or when I think of putting myself in a position to play the "I'm GREAT! Ain't God GOOD?" game, I get sick down inside. I've walked a long way in this desert I've been in, and I think I understand some of the need for a purging, a purification if you will, of what Christianity has become at the hands of pastors and teachers in this sad and pathetic day and age. Men who would look you in the eye and tell you "it's a privilege to serve God," all the while stealing the money from the offering plate to satisfy their own material greed. Or men who are so uninspired by the Word of God that they have to tell the same, worn, useless stories over and over because they aren't being filled with the "light" they blather on about. People who claim to love and support you, as long as they can dictate how you'll live every waking moment of your life. Sad people. Evil people. Masked people.

Now, no matter how sincere and genuine a person is, my heart asks me quietly if they're really that way - or if they're hiding something. I found I was always waiting for the other shoe to fall, and the mask to come off, and the "real" person to come out. I suppose you could say that my trust was shot to hell.

Now, it's true of any religion that they'll tell you the same thing: Don't look at the people in the church, keep your eye on God. But let me ask you this - if we're to be the hands of God, the feet, the mouth, the heart of God, shouldn't a real transformation change the people who are representing him? I've met a few people who I would honestly classify as "Christ-like." Just a few. Some are Christians, some are Mormons, some are Buddhists, some are Hare Krishnas - So there isn't just one "recipe" to Christ-likeness. But there is one thing they all have in common, and that's an innate sense of integrity and humility. Something I thought I possessed, and something I thought I taught. Maybe I don't have it, and maybe I didn't understand it enough to teach it - but being away from "god", and being away from "Christians" has brought me to a point where I can pass an Easter without a sunrise service, and not feel like shit about it.

Yes, I miss God. I even wonder if he misses me - but I don't miss his people. Sure, I'm painting with a broad brush - I get that. Maybe some of you might be offended by this. If that's so, then accept my sincere apology. But if nothing else, maybe this post will have caused you to think a little bit more about the life you claim to live, and with this season of Spring and renewal, make a pledge to be a little more real about your faith - whatever it is - and ask yourself if you're serving God or serving your ego, your pride, your tradition, your "family heritage", your hypocrisy or just yourself.

Yes, I miss God. But while I've been "missing" God, I think I've found a truer taste of God in my solitude and distance.

Happy Easter.

A brief statement on homosexuality

Wow. wow. You know, the more I grow, the less I know. The more I think I know, the less I grow. When I was pastoring, I thought I knew what the Word said. I thought I understood what God wanted of me - of us. Now, I don't know. I don't understand. But I am growing.

I want God to be real. I want to feel like I'm part of something more than just cosmic dust and chance. I want to find my purpose in life outside of myself, and I want to serve other people some how. But if there is anything I've learned over the last little while, it's this: I can do all of this, and not include religion in one single bit of it. No, I'm not saying the well-worn phrase, "It's about a relationship, not religion." I'm saying I don't know the answer, I'm saying I want to be a person I'd want to know, and I'm saying I want to make a difference for good in this world. Do I have to be a Christian to do that? No. Will I choose that route because of my past and my experience, and my comfort level? Likely. But does it have to look like what other people tell me it is? Not at all.

I'll bet Jesus wouldn't care if I were gay (though I'm not). If he was willing to lay aside all pretense and tradition to touch a leper, why would he look at my sexuality and make any other judgment than he did with the leper when he said, "I am willing." ? Corruption, either through the body, or through sin, or through poor choices, or through harsh words, or through open rebellion always results in the same thing: corruption. And not one of us is free from that. So, what makes one person's corruption less corrupt than an others? Pride. Self-righteousness. Judgment.

God make me free from them all.

This guy must know our cat!

Talk about a comment on our society!

WARNING... this has some language... but it's worth it!

Logorama from Marc Altshuler - Human Music on Vimeo.

New Years' is No Time for Resolutions

I took some time today to set some goals for myself for the coming year.

Notice I didn't call them "resolutions." Why? Well, the nature of a resolution is to see its fulfillment NOW... think about how congress passes laws - "... it is hereby resolved..." "... the context of this resolution is to bring about..." It means that you decide that it WILL be... and worse still, it WILL be NOW!

I couldn't put that kind of pressure on myself. It's hard enough to think about 2010 being here already without putting myself in a no-win situation by "resolving" to somehow control my life - even in little bits. I have to laugh... "Space - 2010" was the SEQUEL to "Space Odyssey 2001!" We were supposed to be exploring deep space by now, and as a nation we can hardly keep our citizens employed and productive! (I'm not even going to talk about living on the moon ala "Space 1999" ) See what I mean? I'm certain that someone, somewhere RESOLVED to be exploring deep space by 2001... or someone RESOLVED to have a viable colony on the moon by 1999... and you can see where that ended up - RIGHT? NO SIR... no resolutions for me. Just simple goals.

Why did I choose the word "goal" rather than "resolution?" Some would argue they're one in the same - but I'd have to disagree. Typically, a goal can be broken down into "bite-size" steps that make the overall chance of successfully reaching that goal higher. My goals sound an awful lot like some of your resolutions for this year, but I don't feel intimidated, and set up for failure. (You know, that sure sounds like I'm giving myself an out - doesn't it?)

I made 5 simple goals for myself to achieve this year:

1. Watch less television - I've been making this goal every year for as long as I can remember... in fact, I think I've made this goal every month of every year, and maybe even every week of every month of every year. Needless to say, it's a MUCH NEEDED goal!
2. Read/write more - Mark Twain said, "A man who won't read good books has nothing over a man who can't read good books." I don't ever want that said of me. Additionally, I've been given a gift when it comes to writing. I don't know why I don't do more of it - and hence, the goal to not only read more, but to write more as well. This past year has been a rough one for me and my family - but it's time to put some normality back into our lives.
3. Eat better - Fact of the matter is, I'm not liking the middle-aged spread that's beginning to happen to me - and more than that, I haven't felt too great. I know a lot of it has to do with what, and HOW I eat. Time to take a serious look at this area of my life - for the first time in my life.
4. Lose weight and exercise - I know, I know... been there, done that... didn't work out too well. I've always agreed with St. Paul in the bible when he said that "physical exercise profits the body little..." and have always thought the only kind of running you should do is from the law or your ex-wife - but I can't keep going the way I am. All the years taking opiate narcotics are behind me now, and though I've still got pain and something going on with my skeleton, I can exercise. So - I'm busting out the bike, and going to actually do it this year. And finally,
   
5. Play more music. I used to tell my sweetheart that I'd rather go blind than lose my hearing. Music was that important to me. Well, needless to say, the last few years have sort of taken the wind out of my sails in every area of my life. My music has suffered along with my reading, writing, exercising, and dieting (like how I tied them all together there?). I love music. I love playing my guitar and mandolin... there is no reason on earth I shouldn't be play more, with friends, and for God. Enough said.

Now, as I said, goals can be broken down into wonderful "bite-size" chunks that make "eating the elephant one bite at a time" a little easier. I'm not saying, "as of right this moment I am going to ... blah blah blah." That would only be setting myself up for failure. But, by taking each of my goals and writing sub-goals, and sub-sub-goals, or steps if you'd prefer - I think I have an actual fighting chance of coming out of 2010 a little healthier, better read, creative, thinner, and filled with more music.

And here's the kicker. If I drop the ball along the way, I drop the ball along the way. The nice thing about dropping the ball is this: if you don't accidentally kick it as it slips from your hands, it generally stays fairly close to where it fell, and is just begging to be picked back up!

So I did it. I made some attainable goals for myself to achieve in the year we were supposed to be exploring deep space and listening to HAL as he tells me, "I'm sorry Michael. I'm afraid I can't do that." HAL may not be able to dot "THAT"... but I can. One step at a time.

Here's to me, and to a new year that outshines that last one. And I hope and pray the same can be said for you as well.

It's a journey - and with every one I've been on, they all start with a single step.

Get Off Your Knees

I got to see one of the most amazing documentaries today. It's called, "Get Off Your Knees - The John Robinson Story." It's about a man that was born without arms from the elbows down, and with VERY short legs. It was such an inspirational story! You can check out the site here: http://www.wmht.org/index.php?s=1&b=10&p=77

After seeing this amazing man's story this morning, I feel so convicted about how I've viewed my own issues in life. I'm grateful that there are people out there who don't let their physical challenges become limitations. I think all of us can take a page from this man's life and apply it to our own.

Thanks John for being so inspiring!


Image from www.wmht.org

Bear Grylls has NOTHIN' on me!

I've got so much to do, and I've got so many directions I'm running, I had to just stop before I continued, and share an experience and a picture with you!

About a week ago, Chris, Zach and I were up Little Cottonwood canyon, looking at the fall leaves. While we were there, Zach and I went off to explore, and found a great place that had three fallen logs over the river. As I was standing near the bank on one of these logs, I lost my balance and put my foot behind me to catch myself. Instead of coming down on hard ground however, I ended up stepping into a hole filled with dead pine branches. As I fell back, I hit a tree pretty hard with my back, and was momentarily stunned. When I tried to move however, something was holding my leg in place. I yanked my leg out of the hole, and as I did, a resounding "dead wood" "SNAP" was heard, and suddenly I was free. As I walked away, my calf was burning and I knew I'd scratched it up pretty bad. What I didn't realize is that I'd impaled myself on a branch, and had broken off the tip INSIDE MY LEG!

I reached down to see what I'd done, and ran into the branch, which was about as big around as a 10 penny nail. As I tried to pull it out, I realized it wasn't jammed in there under the surface of my skin like a big sliver, but instead, it had punctured STRAIGHT into my leg just below my calf muscle! The stick was about an inch and a half long, and was completely jammed in my leg, leaving less than a eighth of an inch sticking out. As Zach turned several shades of pale, I began trying to pull it out - but it didn't want to cooperate, and I finally had to grit my teeth, and scream while I yanked it out. Zach and I burst out in hysterical laughter, and both agreed it was one of the coolest things we'd ever seen!

After it was out, I probed the wound again, and found ANOTHER smaller branch just below it - also sticking straight into my leg. I wasn't able to grab that one, so using my trusty Leatherman, Zach grabbed on to it, and pulled it from my leg. It was only about three-quarters of an inch long, but still as thick as a framing nail! Once all the sticks were out, I pinched and pushed on it to make it bleed really well, then washed it off in the river (yes, your watershed... you can thank me later!)

Zach and I were totally thrilled by the experience, and both agree it was one of the coolest, manliest things I've ever done... Sick huh? LOL... I have to admit I did feel a little like Rambo when he had to sew himself up. I'm just glad I didn't pass out.

I got home and washed it well with anti-bacterial soap, and filled the hole with triple-anti-biotic ointment, and it's healing up just fine. It's not something I want to ever experience again, and I'm grateful it didn't hit anything vital, but come on... how many times in your life do you get to pull a branch out of your leg while screaming your war-cry into the surrounding forest? If I could grunt like Tim the Tool Man, I would! It was a very cool experience!

Where I was impaled by two sticks

Talk about a journey! HOLY COW!

A confession... Tsk tsk tsk....

I know that everyone comes to a point in their lives with their relationship with God where they want to just throw their hands up and say, "F*** it - that's it... No more - I'm done." Mine came over a week ago, and as hard as I tried to be a non-believer, it didn't work. Damnit.

Are you shocked? I am. Why did I do it? Well, it's a long story, but it basically comes down to the frustrations of seeing every one of my family members declare they want nothing to do with God, with "Christianity", or especially, and I'm guilty here too - with Christians in general. It's all sort of a cumulative effect - being burned by people who are in positions of spiritual leadership and authority, being accused of things that you'd not only NEVER think to do, let alone accomplish the act, being railroaded into doing things that go against your nature because you felt you had no choice, and finally, being horribly judged by people who are SUPPOSED to love you MORE than judge you, and especially trying to hang on to my faith when I feel completely alone, and judged for wanting to keep the flame alive.

It finally came to a head the other night, and I decided that nothing, or more specifically, NO ONE is worth the hell and pain I'm going through trying to hold on to a dying flame. I've watched as all of my kids have expressed their disdain and disgust with "...Christians" who are nothing more than judgmental a**holes with nothing better to do than meddle in others lives - instead of looking after the proverbial "log" in their own eyes." I've seen my beloved's faith get rocked to the point where she trusts NO ONE who calls themselves a believer... and I've seen something that used to be such an amazingly "uniting" aspect of our relationship die on the vine.

Frankly, it has pissed me off.

And by way of a disclaimer, I know we're not pure as the driven snow, and we've had our times of failure, but I can say with a VERY clear conscience, that those times of failure came only after doing all we could to live with integrity and honesty, and finally no longer being able to control our hurt, disgust, disbelief and anger.

So, while I didn't give God the finger - as it were, I did pack up all my books and notes, and put them on the shelf - FULLY intending on getting boxes and putting them away, or throwing them all away, and no longer believing. While the thought of throwing out any book bothers me, I was willing to 86 all my bibles, commentaries, studies, and literally ANY thing that may have something to do with Christianity. In my mind, KARMA - doing unto others as I'd want them to do to me - was going to be the behavior of the day, but completely without God. No more. No how. No way.

Then, I made the mistake of reading something I wrote some time ago... Here on this blog in fact. Earlier this year I wrote an entry called, "Just HOW important is faith?" which contained the scripture reference from Isaiah 7:9 which says, "Unless your faith is firm, I cannot make you stand firm."

DAMNIT God! WHY did you say that? WHY did I write that? WHY did I read that? ARGHHHH!

I read that passage over and over... and couldn't get it out my head. "Unless your faith is firm, I cannot make you stand firm." And then the internal arguments started: "God? Unless MY faith is firm? WHAT?" "Why don't YOU make MY faith firm?" "Why do I have to have firm faith?" "Why don't YOU just make my faith firm?" "My faith is in the toilet... how's that for firm?"

And yet, the words still spoke to my hurting, defiant, pain-filled, and angry heart - "Unless your faith is firm, I cannot make you stand firm." Shit. That means it's a failing in ME! That means that in spite of everything that's hurt me, and everything that's made me angry, and everything that's grieved my heart, it's still up to me to keep my faith alive - and "established" as some translations say. I didn't like that thought. Inside of me I began making excuses... "It's too much to ask at this point..." "What good is being the only one in my family who is trying?" "What good does having firm faith do, when people who are clearly lacking in faith, morals, humility, and honestly are still prospering and seeing success in their lives?" "What's in it for me?"

I KNOW I'm not alone in feeling like this... and yet, "Unless your faith is firm..." It makes me want to scream out, "SHUT UP GOD! - HOW COULD YOU KNOW OR UNDERSTAND?" "YOU CAN'T POSSIBLY KNOW WHAT IT IS I'M GOING THROUGH, LET ALONE TALKING ABOUT!"

And yet, the passage remained, stubbornly replaying like a bad audio loop, "unless your faith is firm, I cannot make you stand firm." Ouch. And even more painful was the realization that He CAN possibly know. He CAN understand. And even worse, He cares that I'm in this crisis. And, if that's true, then I have a responsibility to respond to Him... and I have a need to make my faith firm. Oh crap. Another painful round of confession and repentance is in my future. I hate that.

This isn't the first time my own words have been used against me. And it likely won't be the last either - sad to say. So last night I pulled my favorite bible down from the shelf where it had been relegated to sit until I threw it away, and flipped it open to Isaiah, and had to eat a little crow, and try to wipe some spiritual "egg" off my face. Exactly HOW to firm up my faith isn't really clear to me - as there is no magic bullet to do so - but I know there are things that build faith - and one of them isn't throwing a temper-tantrum when life is handing me "faith firming" turds that taste like gravel in my mouth, or causing me more pain than I want to deal with.

So I wearily climbed back on the horse last night. God and I haven't had the "woodshed" moment yet, but I know it's coming. I know I deserve it. And who knows, maybe my butt will be firm enough that it won't hurt as bad as everything did to drive me to this point.

"Unless your faith is firm, I cannot make you stand firm."

Abba, I believe. Help my unbelief - PLEASE.

Another Person's View on Life, and What it Can Throw at You...

I found this on Christianity Today...

Three Gifts for Hard Times

What I've learned as life has taken a turn for what most people think is the worst.

William J. Stuntz | posted 8/28/2009 09:36AM

Survivors of some horrible plague or battle often find themselves wracked with guilt: Why did I live while so many died? Though I had no battle scars, I used to feel a similar sense of guilt. I married the only woman I've ever loved. We have three terrific children. I have a secure job that I love and that pays well. Sometimes I would ask God: Why have you been so kind to me? Why have I gotten such an easy life?

I don't ask those questions anymore.

A little over nine years ago, while driving home from a family vacation, my car got a flat tire. When I started to change it, something nasty happened at the base of my back. Ever since, my lower back and the top half of my right leg have hurt. After two operations, dozens of injections, physical therapy, psychotherapy, and thousands of pills, my back and right leg hurt every waking moment, and most of those moments, they hurt a lot. Living with chronic pain is like having an alarm clock taped to your ear with the volume turned up—and you can't turn it down. You can't run from it; the pain goes where you go and stays where you stay. Chronic pain is the unwelcome guest who will not leave when the party is over.

A few months after my back turned south, my family and I moved when I accepted a job at Harvard Law School. Our family began to unravel. One of our children suffered a life-threatening disease, and my marriage fell apart.

Those crises faded with time but left deep scars. Early last year, in February 2008, another piece of bad news struck me: Doctors found a large tumor in my colon; a month later, films turned up tumors in both of my lungs. In the past year, I've had two cancer surgeries and six months of intensive chemotherapy. I've been off chemo for a few months, but I'm still nauseous much of the time and exhausted most of the time. Cancer kills, but cancer treatment takes a large bite out of one's pre-diseased life, as though one were dying in stages. Some of that stolen life returns when the treatment stops. But only some.

Today, my back and especially my right leg hurt as much as they ever have, and the odds are overwhelming that they will hurt for as long as this life lasts. Cancer will very probably kill me within the next two years. I'm 50 years old.

Such stories are common, yet widely misunderstood. Two misunderstandings are worth noting here. First, illness does not beget virtue. Cancer and chronic pain make me sick; they don't make me good. I am who I was, only more diseased. Second, though I deserve every bad thing that has ever happened to me, those things didn't happen because I deserve them. Life in a fallen world is more arbitrary than that. Plenty of people deserve better from life than I do, but get much worse. Some deserve worse and get much better. Something important follows: The question we are most prone to ask when hardship strikes—why me?—makes no sense. That question presupposes that pain, disease, and death are distributed according to moral merit. They aren't. We live in a world in which innocent children starve while moral monsters prosper. We may see justice in the next life, but we see little of it in this one.

Thankfully, God gives better and more surprising gifts to those living in hard times. Three gifts are especially sweet.

Redeeming Curses

First, God usually doesn't remove life's curses. Instead, he redeems them.

Joseph's story makes this point. Joseph was victimized by two horrible injustices: one at the hands of his brothers who sold him into slavery, the other thanks to Potiphar's wife, who falsely accused him of attempted rape. God did not undo these injustices; they remained real and awful. Instead, God used those wrongs to prevent a much worse one: mass starvation. When Joseph later met with his brothers, he said this about the transaction that started the train rolling: "You meant it for evil, but God meant it for good." That doesn't mean that slavery and unjust imprisonment are good; rather, the point is that they produced good, and the good they produced was larger than the wickedness that was visited upon Joseph. Evil was twisted back on itself, like a gun barrel turned so that it aims at the would-be murderer firing the weapon.

Joseph's story foreshadows the central story of the Gospels. The worst day in human history was the day of Christ's crucifixion, which saw the worst possible punishment inflicted on the One who, in all history, least deserved it. Two more sunrises and the Son rose: the best day in human history, the day God turned death itself against itself—and because he did so, each one of us has the opportunity to share in death's defeat.

That is our God's trademark. Down to go up, life from death, beauty from ugliness: the pattern is everywhere.

That familiar pattern is also a great gift to those who suffer disease and loss—the loss may remain, but good will come from it, and the good will be larger than the suffering it redeems. Our pain is not empty; we do not suffer in vain. When life strikes hard blows, what we do has value. Our God sees it.

A change in suffering's character

The second gift is often missed, because it lives in salvation's shadow. Amazing as the greatest of all gifts is, God the Son does more than save sinners. Jesus' life and death also change the character of suffering, give it dignity and weight and even, sometimes, a measure of beauty. Cancer and chronic pain remain ugly things, but the enterprise of living with them is not an ugly thing. God's Son so decreed it when he gave himself up to torture and death.

Two facts give rise to that conclusion. First, Jesus is beautiful as well as good. Second, suffering is ugly as well as painful. Talk to those who suffer medical conditions like mine and you'll hear this refrain: Even the best-hidden forms of pain and disease have a reality that is almost tactile, as though one could touch or taste them. And those conditions are foul, like the sound of fingernails on a blackboard or the smell of a cornered skunk. Some days, I feel as if I were wearing clothes soaked in sewage.

Some days—but not most days, thanks to the manner of Jesus' life and death. Imagine Barack Obama putting on a bad suit or Angelina Jolie wearing an ugly dress. The suit wouldn't look bad, and that dress wouldn't be ugly. These are incredibly attractive people whose attractiveness spills over onto their clothing, changing its meaning and the way other people respond to it. If Obama or Jolie wear it, it's a good-looking outfit. If they wear it often enough, it becomes a good-looking outfit even when you or I wear it. God's Son did something similar by taking physical pain on his divine yet still-human person. He did not render pain itself beautiful. But his suffering made the enterprise of living with pain and illness larger and better than it had been before. He elevates all he touches. Just as his years of carpentry in Joseph's shop lend dignity and value to all honest work, so too the pain he bore lends dignity and value to every pain-filled day human beings live.

The Shawshank Redemption is about a prisoner convicted of a murder he didn't commit. That prisoner escapes by crawling through a sewer line until he's outside the prison's walls. The narrator describes the transaction this way: "He crawled through a river of [dung] and came out clean on the other side." God the Son did that, and he did it for the likes of me—so that I, too, and many more like me, might come out clean on the other side. That truth doesn't just change my life after I die. It changes my life here, now.

The God Who Remembers

The third gift is the most remarkable. Our God remembers even his most forgettable children. But that memory is not the dry, lifeless thing we feel when one or another old friend comes to mind. More like the passion one feels at the sight of a lover. When Jesus was dying, one of the two convicts crucified with him said this: "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom" (Luke 23:42). Jesus responded by telling him that he would be in paradise that very day. As we use the word remember, that story sounds off, as though the thief on the cross and the Son of God were talking past each other.

The story sounds off because to us, remembrance merely means "recall"—I remember when I connect a student's name to her face, or when I can summon up some fact or the image of some past event. That kind of remembrance is a sterile enterprise, lacking both action and commitment.

In the Bible, remembrance usually combines two meanings: first, holding the one who is remembered close in the heart, and second, acting on the memory. When God repeatedly tells the people of Israel to remember that he brought them out of Egypt, he is saying much more than "get your history right." A better paraphrase would go like this: "Remember that I have loved you passionately. Remember that I have acted on that love. Hold tight to that memory, and act on it too."

Job understood the concept. Speaking with God about what would follow his own death, Job utters these words: "You will call and I will answer you; you will long for the creature your hands have made. Surely then you will count my steps but not keep track of my sin" (14:15-16). Notice how memory and longing are fused. Job longs to be free of his many pains, which occupy his mind like a sea of unwanted memories. God longs for relationship with Job, and Job knows it: hence, his belief that the Lord of the universe remembers each of his steps. He is the Lover who will not rest until his arms enfold the beloved. To Job, the curses Satan has sent his way are a mighty mountain that cannot be climbed, an enemy army that cannot be beaten. In the shadow of God's love, those curses are at once puny and powerless.

Philosophers and scientists and law professors (my line of work) are not in the best position to understand the Christian story. Musicians and painters and writers of fiction are much better situated—because the Christian story is a story, not a theory or an argument, and definitely not a moral or legal code. Our faith is, to use C. S. Lewis's apt words, the myth that became fact. Our faith is a painting so captivating that you cannot take your eyes off it. Our faith is a love song so achingly beautiful that you weep each time you hear it. At the center of that true myth, that painting, that song stands a God who does vastly more than remember his image in us. He pursues us as lovers pursue one another. It sounds too good to be true, and yet it is true. So I have found, in the midst of pain and heartache and cancer.

William J. Stuntz is the Henry J. Friendly Professor at Harvard Law School.

Copyright © 2009 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.

A Whole New Life

As I've struggled over the last eight years with diagnosis after diagnosis, and one pill after another, I realized today that what the Destroyer wanted to use for ill in my life, God has turned around and has used for His glory and His good in my life.

For years now I've been walking around in what I like to jokingly refer to as an "opiated haze" - numb to feelings and emotions, deadened to smells, sounds, tastes and sights. I was putting too many spices on my food to give it taste - ANY taste; I was burying my nose in things to detect the subtlety in aromas; I was turning my head left and right trying to detect sounds that others had no problem hearing; and I was blinded to the simple things that make life worthwhile.

As I've come off Morphine and Oxycodone, these senses have awakened with a vengeance! Suddenly coffee smelled so potent that I was unable to drink it, and my food began taking on tastes so foreign to me as to be virtually unpalatable. The phone and the alarm clock were painfully loud, and any light at all was too much light for my eyes. Soaps I'd used for years were suddenly overwhelming to my sense of smell. Music I'd loved became clamorous and jangling to my nerves. All in all, it was like living inside a odoriferous, sour, loud, light-filled Rubik's Cube - where every change and combination only served to heighten my discomfort.

Chris explained this all to me from a physiological point of view, telling me that my cells had built up an exceptional amount of ectoplasmic reticuli - or some damn thing - in an attempt to filter out the poisons I was ingesting each time I faithfully took my daily meds, and that this additional "ER" - as she called it - suddenly found itself without a job, and was making ALL of my cells crave toxins so the stalwart ER would have something to do - hence my heightened and jangled senses.

Needless to say, it's been less than fun, and more than challenging.

But here's some amazing things: I've found out that I have been DRAMATICALLY over-medicated all these years. (And here you thought I was just slow on the up-take!). I've discovered that one-quarter of an oxycodone - a lowly 7.5mg - works as well as 200mg of Morphine PLUS TWO (2) 30mg Oxycodones on top of it! I've discovered that a small handful of Ibuprofen (affectionately called "Vitamin I") and a hot shower do more to relieve stiffness than popping a Zanaflex, or a Flexeril. I've discovered that being exhausted from a long day of helping others is a much better sleeping pill than Tamazapam or Lunesta. And - forgive me in advance - I've found that using the bathroom doesn't require Senecot, Docalax, or Milk of Magnesia - and that going every single day is a NORMAL thing. (I asked you to forgive me already!)

On a different tack, I've also discovered that I REALLY can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Not that I recognized His strengthening hand in the midst of it all, but looking back on things, it's patently obvious. According to the Drug Abuse Warning Network (DAWN), an office within the US Department of Health and Human Services, and specifically, their Office of Applied Studies, opiate narcotics are the number ONE substance in drug related deaths in the United States. In 2007 alone, Salt Lake County - in our humble little white-bread Mormon outpost of a city - 19.3 deaths in every 100,000 people were directly attributed to opiate narcotics - be they accidental overdoses, suicides, or intentional poisonings! 1,067,722 people lived in Salt Lake County during 2007 - that means that 206 people died that year with opiates being the primary contributing cause. Statistics are sketchy on the number of them who died while in withdrawal, but a local center told me that the chances of experiencing a "life threatening emergency situation" during opiate narcotic withdrawal was "... more likely than not..." and that unattended withdrawal (meaning going cold turkey on your own), results in death "... more often than we'd like to admit."

Can I call my survival a miracle? Well, based on this information, I'd say that I was certainly strengthened throughout by Jesus Christ, and that His divine intervention may well be the only reason I'm here today. I'm reminded of Romans 8:28 which says, "And we know that all things work together for GOOD to those who love God and are called according to His purpose..." and I can certainly apply Jeremiah 29:11 which tells me that God's thoughts toward me are NOT for evil, but for a future and a hope. I think it may be overly dramatic to say that, "I'm lucky to be alive..." but when you speak those words in the face of reality, and of statistics, and of those 206 people who are NOT here to share - maybe it isn't so far fetched after all?

Life is certainly getting better. Coffee doesn't stink any more - Thank God! My hearing is pretty much back to normal, my eyes are as blind as they were before, and food has begun to taste - well, like food again. I have a beautiful wife, three amazing kids, a few pets, and air in my lungs. To quote Anthony Bordain - "life is clearly not sucking."

And the best part of it all? It's not sucking - without opiate narcotics.

It truly has been a journey.

Surely there must be a reason for it all?

Do you ever wonder why you are singled out for something in your life? As though someone had dipped their hand into a cosmic raffle jar and pulled out your name and suddenly your life was turned upside down, or suddenly you find out your sick with something incurable, or your job and security suddenly vanish? Do you find yourself wondering what you may have done - if this is the big ol' cosmic karma roller coaster ride, and it's your turn to find yourself bound and struggling on the tracks? Do you ever in your quiet time turn your eyes heavenly and ask the forbidden question, "why me, God?" Do you ever find yourself wishing for the end? Hoping for release?


You are not alone.

Times like this can try even the best of us. Job - a man that GOD said was without sin and perfect - found himself asking these kinds of questions. He found himself wishing he had died at birth! He found himself wishing to simply die and have done with it all. Often times we mistakenly think that if it can happen to an upright man like Job, then it's patently obvious it would happen to us. But just because it happened to Job, why would we naturally assume that we're more deserving than he was of testing? Of pain? Of hardship? Of loneliness? Of being hurt, betrayed, or slandered?

"Friends" would tell you that possibly you deserve it for some past wrong. Others may suggest it's the result of unrepentant sin in your life. Yet others may say you're only getting what you deserve. But let me ask you - does that make the enduring of such trials any easier? Not at all. Where are the friends that will simply come and sit beside you in silence and endure the long hours with you? Where is the family that's supposed to support you and not judge you? Where is God when all of this is going on? Why does it seem as though you're in it on your own?

It's because we tend to assume the worst of God, and believe the lies the Accuser whispers in your ear. "You deserve this." "What goes around comes around." "Sow the wind, reap the whirlwind." "You don't deserve better."

They really are lies, you know.

God's heart for us is tender, compassionate, and loving. Does that mean that there won't be consequences of sin in our lives? Of course not - but our consequences are not God's punishments. Like a loving father, God will drive foolishness from our hearts with the rod of correction, but he never leaves us in our sorrow or pain. Jeremiah - the "weeping prophet" understood what God's heart is for His children. The Lord revealed to him His love and compassion when He said, "For I know the plans I have for you... they are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope." (Jer. 29:11)

Can God lie? No. It is impossible for Him to do so. So, can we believe Him? Certainly. He went on to share more with Jeremiah when he said, " In those days when you pray, I will listen. If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me. I will be found by you! I will end your captivity and restore your fortunes! I will gather you out of the nations where I sent you and I will bring you home again to your own land." (Jer. 29:12-14) Some would say that this pertains only to Israel - and it certainly did when Jeremiah received these things, but as believers, we can claim the promises given to Israel of old, and we can trust in their fulfillment in our experiences.

Times are hard. People are out of work. There is untold suffering in this world, and yet, it is NOT God's plan for us. Does He allow things to happen in our lives to draw us to Him? To teach us? To correct and direct us? Absolutely. But His plan for us to give us a future and a hope.

A future and a hope you say? Yes - exactly that. We live in a horribly fallen world. There is a lot of pain and suffering - but our future - and that which gives us hope, is knowing our place in the Kingdom of God. As heirs with Christ, the home God spoke of - the one He will bring us home to? That's His Kingdom. It's ours through the process of adoption, and through the shed blood of Christ.


A study done by John Hopkins Medical Center recently, showed that patients who were given hope and encouragement had a more than 75% rate of successful recovery, as compared to only 17% of patients in the control group. Hope is powerful. Hope keeps people alive through difficult, life-threatening, dangerous, or even painful experiences. Study after study has shown that persons in life or death survival situations who exhibit hope, stand a greater chance of survival than those who give up this precious and powerful gift.

Life on this ball of dirt can really suck. I know from personal experience. You do too. But standing on faith and securing an unshakable hope can make all the difference in the world. After all, aren't we told that, "God makes all things work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose?" (Rom. 8:28) So maybe in the end, all of our pain, heartache and sorrow in this life, will be the very tools the Lord uses to work immeasurable good in our lives, the lives of those around us, and just perhaps someone who hasn't met Him yet?

There has to be a reason for it all. I choose to believe it will be that God needed to shape me more, and make me more like Him.

Just a thought.

You really must read this site...

Not to tell you how to live your life, or how to walk with God - however comma, THIS is an article that everyone who is walking with the Lord should read. I think it's time we got down to earth, and get real. This is amazing.

Go check out this article: http://freebelievers.com/blog-entry/spiritual-porn-addiction

Personally, I think it's time I dumped some of the conventions I've held. I think it's time to be more real about the Lord.

Blessings,


Mike

My Cat Thinks I'm a Chair

One of the reasons I love this cat, is he likes to be on top of things... LITERALLY!

"Yes, human, you are my throne... get used to it."

I was talking to Chris and working on a computer problem, and my cat decided it needed to lounge upon me... Ahhh where would we be without animals in our lives? I love him!

For some reason, he likes to sit his bum on your head...

Like a leopard, he likes to dangle his paws on either side of you!

"As We Forgive" - A movie you should try to see...

I saw one of the most amazing films last night. It's called "As We Forgive." It's about the genocide in Rwanda that took place in the early 90s. For those of you not familiar with that massacre, or if you've heard about it and don't know what it was all about, I'd like to share some things with you.

As many of you know, I was in the Air Force Intelligence Directorate at Scott AFB, Illinois. I wasn't a dedicated intelligence resource however, but I made briefings which outlined the infrastructure status in countries we may need to move troops or supplies in to. I briefed the four-star general there every week about the roads, railroads, power, natural gas, airports etc. that a certain country possessed which would support our various ships, and aircraft. One of the reasons I opted to leave the Air Force was because of the genocide in Rwanda. I remember everyday having to be subject to CIA and the NSA's briefings on how many people were killed everyday, and of course, we were made to look at all the horrid pictures and video clips of people butchering eachother with machettes, axes, hammers, or even heavy clubs. It was brutal. I was completely losing my faith in man-kind. How could you be so calloused as to hack someone to death with a machette, regardless of sex or age.

Rwanda is in the heart of Africa

The crux of the issuse was this - there are two predominant people groups in Rwanda - the Hutus and the Tutsi tribes. The Hutus had traditionally been the farmers, the laborers and the lower class. They were darker skinned, more heavily lipped, nostrilled, and eyebrowed. Whereas, the Tutsis had lighter skin, finer features, with more of an asian cast to their features, and had traditionally been the ruling class, and had little but contempt for the Hutus. Initially, these two peoples had lived next door to each other for generations, and had many cross-marriages, and relationships. Then suddenly the Hutus were incited to revolt, and initiated the worst barbaric genocide I've ever seen. "Official" reports say that 800,000 Tutsis died, and half again as many Hutus. Over a million people were ruthlessly butchered in the most barbaric way.

Some skulls of the victims of this genocide

Now, here's the most amazing part. The majority of people in Rwanda - on both sides of the argument, are all CHRISTIANS! When all the murderes were rounded up and imprisioned, the jails could not hold them any longer, and so the president of Rwanda released all of the attackers who had confessed their crimes and expressed remourse and sorrow. This shocked the country. Buth then, the miracle happened. The church got actively involved with the process of forgiveness and reconciliation, and have created an atmosphere of peace, cooperation, love and forgiveness that is unparallelled in our history. The country is at peace. The Hutus and the Tutsis are once again living in harmony, and the movie shows how the murderes of families have been reconciled to their victims surviving families, and are spending their lives showing them how sorry they are for their crimes. The Tutsis on the other hand, have had to forgive and accept the Hutus pleas for forgiveness.

I sat there completely stunned at what I watched. One example was of a man who murdered the father, mother, and siblings of one woman's family, literally leaving her alone in the world. The show followed his confession, and his asking to be forgiven, and how hard it was for the gal to accept it. She was angry... But she said that she kept praying that the Lord would teach her to love and forgive this man who had brutally murdered her ENTIRE family. Now the man has built her a house, and is helping her with her farming, and has made sure that she is never in want. They openly love eachother, and give the praise to the Lord for their reconciliation.

The amazing part of it all is that the president of the country said flat out that had they not all trusted in the mercy and grace of the Lord to get them through this time, the country would still be divided. The whole show basically was one long documentary on REAL CHRISTIANITY. How many of us in this country could find it in ourselves, or have even been exposed to this kind of radical forgiveness... how many of us could do it? I don't believe I could. I was moved to tears to see the extend of God's healing power and the power of forgiveness.

I HIGHLY recommend you find a way to watch this show. I saw it on channel 115 on cable - PBS's "WORLD" channel... look and see if it may be broadcast again... it is ABSOLUTELY WORTH seeing more than once!

You can find the website here.

Check it out if you can!

I've just had a brush with eternity!

Dramatic title, huh?

What I'm talking about though, is the wonderful Father's Day gift I received from my beloved and my youngest, Zach! They blessed me with two months of oil-painting lessons from one of Utah's best artists - She is currently painting all the portraits of the Federal Judges in Utah!

Anyway, I've always wanted to paint in oils! I've painted a lot in watercolors, and done a lot of digital stuff, but always dreamed of learning to paint in oils. So, the first night was great. Our assignment was to paint a tree. We were shown many different styles of trees done by other artists to get ideas, and then we were cut loose!

I had to laugh while I was doing this... I was imagining Bob Rosse (sp?) putting a "happy little branch here, and maybe his little friend goes there..." and realized I was doing the same thing. I suddenly became very self-conscious and reflected on how I was acting... I peeked around the class and was relieved to see there were other "Rosse-ites" in the class as many of them appeared to be putting their "happy little something or others" here and there, and following it up with a "lovely puffy cloud" swish, followed by a self-approving little nod. I WAS NOT ALONE! I finished my tree... with some embellishments, and had time to brush in an awesome background on a new canvas for next week's class... it's a wonderful gradation in red... and the brush strokes that make oils so wonderful, are fascinating to me... any way, I gush...

Anyway, I thought, if for no other reason than my own self-amusement and interest, that I would post my assignments here, and hope for feedback? And to record any improvements... IF they come! Check them out!

Red fade brush stroke details

Assignment #1: Paint a tree... It turned out to be an old oak with Spanish moss...

Another view of the red fade and brush strokes

Detail of the tree... No, they're not fence posts...

Tree painting shown from a distance for perspective

A very fast test painting in Corel Painter X - first time using the Bamboo Wacom Tab

Going forward, I hope I can resist the urge to remove my ear!

Van Gogh's Starry Night

My Father's Day this year was amazing. My beloved and my youngest son got together and purchased two months of oil painting classes for me! They start tomorrow! I have always wanted to paint in oils, but never had the money or the self-confidence to pick it up and try. I've always worked in watercolors - they make more sense to me, but with oils you can do so much more!

I have dreamed about oil painting, and now I'm going to have the chance to learn how. Something inside of me tells me that I'm going to really like it, and that it will make sense to me, and that I'll keep painting for life.

Thank you so much family for your love and your thoughtfulness! I won't let you down!

Now, where did I put that 10W-30? Let's get painting!

Guess what?! The Well is STILL full of LIVING WATER!

You know, there are just times when you have to "man-up" and call it like it is... and in the spirit of doing so, I have a confession: I have neglected to gather together with the saints - "...let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of his return is drawing near..." (Heb. 10:25) My reasons for doing so are my own, and believe me, they're as lame as you assume them to be - but today, I took that first step to put aside my flesh, and my feelings, and my dislikes, and my fear, and I went to church.

City Church is a new little church meeting in a strip mall. They've done a great job with their space, and the worship is awesome. It allows for reverent soul-searching moments, as well as the fist-pumping excitement that comes from knowing you're redeemed. It's only the second time I've gone there - the first being with Guy Adams, one of my best friends - and today they had a guest speaker. Was it perfect? Was it everything I hoped it would be to supernaturally drag me back into the presence of the King? Well, no - but it was good. And I learned some things, and most importantly, God met me there - and laid His Word on my heart... and I came away more in His presence than I have been in some time.

Why now? Why did I choose to do this today? Well, the answer to that is two-fold. First, I've been blessed to be able to write a column for Examiner.com - covering the Christian scene in Salt Lake City - I'm the Salt Lake Christianity Examiner. Now you tell me... how effective do you think I'll be in that position if I'm not plugged into the body of believers in Salt Lake? Not very effective at all.

Second, the reason I chose now, is I'm tired of using all my past hurts and disappointments as an excuse to exclude corporate worship from my agenda. It's true, I love being anonymous at City Church... little or no baggage comes with sitting there listening to the pastor - but if the truth is to be known, I love Jesus Christ. I'm a believer. I'm saved by the blood of the Lamb, and my name is written in the Lamb's book of Life... this I know. So today for me was more than just covering a beat... it was reconnecting in a public way with the Savior of the world - who died for me. Hebrews 12:1-4 says, "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge cloud of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. Because of the joy awaiting Him, He endured the cross, disregarding its shame. Now He is seated in the place of honor beside God's throne. Think of all the hostility He endured from sinful people; then you won't become weary and give up. After all, you have not yet given your lives in your struggle against sin." Yes, after all, I haven't yet given my life in my struggle against sin. And in spite of all of this, I can go to the well, and still receive living water!

I'm NOT saying I'm wonderful, or that I deserve some kind of praise for getting off my spiritual duff and giving my Lord His due in my life. I'm confessing my sin and my lack of endurance, and sharing this one small victory I had in the Lord. I'll be blunt. Today's service wasn't a memorable one - one that will live in my heart as a "most impacting spiritual experience ever!" Factually, I'll likely forget everything in due time - but what all of this signifies is a step in obedience to Him - who has done so very much for me.

Yes, it's a journey - and I'm not alone. Come Lord Jesus, Come!

I have fear... and I get what it means...

Well, today's the big day. I have an interview with a wonderful international company called "The Waterford Group." The position is for an instructional designer. I can do the job - no doubt about it, but it's a little frightening to be going to an interview. I've had very FEW interviews in my life - having been fortunate enough to be able to go from one position to another through my network, or by word of mouth, or by popular demand. So yes, I'm scared.

This is how I'm feeling inside...

I am trying not to give into fear. But if I can be so honest and straight forward with you, it just seems that it's all too good... that things are coming together for me... and I don't want to jinx it. I don't even believe in things being jinxed, but being an avid baseball fan, I know better than to disrespect the streak. I am qualified. I can do the job. I trust that God has his plans for me... that they're good plans... that He isn't out to keep me down, hurting and unemployed.

Speaking of God... every time I start getting freaked out, I hear in the back of my head, "You will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, for he trusts you." (Isaiah 26:3) I guess this is called stepping out in faith... I'll let you know how that works out!

Thank you Linz for helping me make this happen. Thank you Chris for your words of encouragement. Thanks Rob and Guy for your prayers. Thanks all of you for keeping us in your thoughts and prayers. Most of all, thank you God. There's too much to say thank you for Lord, but I know you know what I mean.

It's a journey!

I've got a writing gig I'm excited about!

I recently was accepted as the new Salt Lake Christianity Examiner for Examiner.com! I am really excited about the opportunities it will afford me within the local Christian community, and amongst those I fellowship with and love.

You can view the Salt Lake Examiner by simply typing in "www.examiner.com" and Examiner will automatically load the closest city to you. You'll be able to find my articles and my homepage on their site here.

I'm contracted to write three or four articles a week, and those of you who know me, and would like to offer a suggestion for a story, please let me know!

I'm excited... and I'm looking forward to the future!

Where to begin with all that's happened?

Ahhhh - The Breakfast of Champions!

I've been horribly lax in keeping up this blog, as well as keeping up my personal journal, and in keeping in touch with my loved ones and friends. I can't, nor will I post an excuse - I really don't have one other than those you've heard a thousand times before.

So - let's catch up, shall we?

My last post about a fatty liver wasn't well received by a lot of people. I sort of sprung it on everyone, and just let it sit. I didn't call anyone to tell them about it, and I didn't go beyond that post much because so much is up in the air. Update on the fatty liver - I'm going in on the 11th of May to see the liver specialist up at the VA and possibly have a biopsy done. I'll know more then. I do know that this certainly signals the start of a new life of diet and exercise. The good news is that Chris wants to do this together, so that will be more helpful.

Where am I now? Well, I've been flaring with the wave-like pattern of stormy weather we've been having, which has quite nicely done two things to me: First, it's caused me to have to take more meds that I like, resulting in excessive fatigue, and irritability. Second, it's made me even more determined to get to the bottom of my diagnosis, and get on track to getting my life back.

OK - here's the new stuff: The doctors at the VA have taken extensive x-rays, performed a CAT scan, and an MRI of by spine and lumbar, and hips and pelvis. From all appearances, they have concluded that aside from some arthritis is my back, it would seem I am AS free. This is awesome! But at the same time, it's disconcerting, because AS seemed to explain the pain, stiffness, energy loss etc. The latest shot in the dark is going to follow a two fold track - first, they're going to begin MEGA doses of vitamin D - of which I have a severe deficiency. Apparently, a severe Vit D deficiency can cause your bones to lose calcium - well, my body can't absorb calcium from my food etc, so it's been robbing my bones for it. The doctor said this could account for the extreme bone and joint pain. In addition, they've told me that the initial sarcoidosis attack that started all of this SEVEN YEARS AGO, likely caused my body to develop a case of Fibromyalgia (FM). So, they plan to treat the bone loss, and Vit D. deficiency, and attack the FM with some of the latest meds they've come out with.

Now, many of you will ask, "Why haven't you said anything about this!? This is exciting!?" Well, I know it sounds corny, but I didn't want to believe it could be so easy. After all these years and tests, for it to come down to a vitamin deficiency and FM, just seemed to miraculous. And frankly, I didn't want to jinx things by saying this is what it is. Unless you've been here, you may not understand that one... Frankly, I'm having a hard time believing it too. I'll have to see how I feel after the mega vitamin D gets here and I start down that path. It's almost too much to hope for that I could again lead a normal life - mostly free of pain, and fatigue! It's just almost too much to even hope for!

So - the fatty liver may or may not be a problem. It could be controlled through diet and exercise, or, it could be controlled by dropping some of the many medications I hopefully won't need in the near future. I can't imagine how hard my liver must be working to process all the narcotics and chemicals in my system... ugh! The doctor said that some people live all their lives with a fatty liver and it never harms them. Hopefully, we've caught this in time and there's no lasting damage!

There you go. You're caught up. To those I've hurt by being so unavailable, I offer my sincere apologies. This is what happens when you're living my life and taking my journey. Thanks for being patient. Below is an apology recorded just for you!

A Fatty liver? - WHAT THE HELL?

I came back from the Doctor yesterday, and without putting much thought into it, I vented on Facebook, and ended up freaking a whole lot of people out... The doc was concerned about the high liver count I had, and while I'm free of Hep C or Hep B, it turns out that I have a "fatty liver" which, according to the doctor, isn't good. I'm being seen by the liver specialists up at the VA - don't know when yet, they have to call me.

While doing some reading on the whole mess, of course there is the OMG, the world is coming to an end, scenario, and just as interesting, it could completely resolve itself with changes in diet, and exercise, and avoiding alcohol - which I pretty much do already.

Being that I don't drink to speak of, the doctor asked if I had been a heavy drinker in the past. I told him of when I was stationed in Iceland, and how of the 365 days I was up there, I drank to intoxication almost every one of those days - but when I came home, I literally just stopped. I asked if that could have done this, and he said he didn't know. I asked if this could be the result of my liver trying to process all the damn chemicals I have to take every day, and he said it very well could be the reason... in other words, it's entirely possible that the meds I'm taking to give me a somewhat quality of life, could be killing my liver, and hastening the inevitable.

I've had time to digest it a little bit, and while I'm not dispairing of life, I am pissed. I am SO SICK of this shit. I want to scream. I am really really sick of this bullshit. I'm pissed. There it is.

I don't have much more to share regarding the Dx, as they haven't told me anything definitive, but the doc showed me my liver on my CAT scan and my MRI, and what should be a dark mass, looks likght grey, with lots of spots through it... If left unchecked, it can cause scarring and eventual cirrhosis of the liver - where so much scar tissue is present, that the liver cannot function any longer - possibly requiring a transplant. The Doc's exact words when he was looking at my liver in the images was, "Hmmm that's not good."

So, while I'm not dead yet, my body systems seem to be failing me. I'm having a very hard time seeing the glass half full right now.

The symptom is called NAFLD - or Non Alcoholic Fatty Liver Disease, or "NAFLD" - the danger being that it could turn into "NASH" - Non Alcoholic SteatoHepatitis. Here are some details:

"NAFLD refers to a group of conditions where there is accumulation of excess fat in the liver of people who drink little or no alcohol. The most common form of NAFLD is a non serious condition called fatty liver. In fatty liver, fat accumulates in the liver cells. Although having fat in the liver is not normal, by itself it probably does not damage the liver. A small group of people with NAFLD may have a more serious condition named non-alcoholic steatohepatitis (NASH). In NASH, fat accumulation is associated with liver cell inflammation and different degrees of scarring. NASH is a potentially serious condition that may lead to severe liver scarring and cirrhosis. Cirrhosis occurs when the liver sustains substantial damage, and the liver cells are gradually replaced by scar tissue (see figure), which results in the inability of the liver to work properly. Some patients who develop cirrhosis may eventually require a liver transplant (surgery to remove the damaged liver and replace it with a “new” liver)."

A diagram showing the progression

A picture showing from L to R, normal liver, fatty liver, and cirrhosis liver

A really good website that explains this process very well can be found here: http://www.thelivercentre.com.au/development/fattyLiver/default.htm

So, in spite of the "Woe is me, the sky is falling" sound of this post, a fatty liver can resolve itself, and be absolutely harmless. - But on top of every other damn thing in my life right now, it wasn't welcome news... so there you have it - The REST of the story!