And every minute takes an hour
Every inch feels like a mile
‘Til I won’t have to imagine
And I finally get to see You smile

Once again, it’s starting to look like I may be fired from another volunteer job. It absolutely breaks my heart- but I’ve been here before. These people don’t seem willing to try to understand me, that I’m ridiculously intelligent, but that since I have a brain injury, I process differently from other people.

Every time this happens- every time I get rejected for this brain injury over which I have no control- it just makes me wish so desperately for Christ’s return.

Sometimes I think this is where I want to be. I’ve met some nice people, people who might even be friends. I really like the pastor. I am not afraid to tell others I am a part of it. Oh, and it’s not Baptist- my own personal little hangup.

But other times, I’m not sure if this church is ready for me- and if they’re not, I don’t want to be a part of it. I have honestly never met a church that was ready to accept me- ALL of me. Sure, there have been places I have gone where they superficially accept me- but then they find out more of me, and then, forget it. I see people who are immature, or who seek conformity. I see people who think they can fix me. I don’t want that.

Then again, I certainly wonder if the church I imagine even exists. Perhaps I’m only chasing shadows.

Yet somehow, even a shadow just isn’t enough.

It’s the same reason I haven’t written (and published) my own personal memoir. It would be both the easiest and the hardest thing I’ve ever written. I don’t know if I’m ready yet to lay it all out there.

It’s like that line from Addison Road- I laugh ’cause it hurts when I scream… Sometimes there is so much that I want to say, but there just aren’t the words to say it.

I wonder if honesty is really possible. Real, true, absolute honesty. Can we really bare our souls to one another? Would others accept us if they knew our secrets?

Invisible by Disciple

You’ve got my attention, there’s no need
To hurt yourself this way
You think no one will notice how you’re feeling
When you cry yourself to sleep

You feel stuck on the outside looking inside
Wishing this life wasn’t your life
And you think you’re damaged way beyond repair
Well, you’re not so far that I can’t get to where you are

You wish you were someone else
Every night you fall to pieces
Knowing you can’t save yourself
I can see you, I can hear you

There’s a place where the broken go
There’s a room full of second chances
You’re not stranded on your own
You’re not invisible

I’m ready to listen, there’s no need
To hold it all inside
The smallest whisper, I hear it
When your strength has all but died

I need you to believe me, can you trust me
That what you see is not what I see?
The reflection in the mirror’s telling lies
‘Cause nothing you have done can change how much I love you

You wish you were someone else
Every night you fall to pieces
Knowing you can’t save yourself
I can see you, I can hear you

There’s a place where the broken go
There’s a room full of second chances
You’re not stranded on your own
You’re not invisible

I can see you
As you’re falling on your knees
You’re not invisible to me
You’re not invisible

You wish you were someone else
Every night you fall to pieces
Knowing you can’t save yourself
I can see you, I can hear you

There’s a place where the broken go
There’s a room full of second chances
You’re not stranded on your own
You’re not, you’re not

You’re not stranded on your own
You’re not invisible

You’re not invisible to me
You’re not invisible to me

Today, the family and friends of Whitney Houston gathered in a church in New Jersey for her funeral.

Let me preface this by saying, I believe any death is sad. It is terrible when any person has to leave this earth, including Whitney.

At the funeral, Kevin Costner said, among other things, “Off you go Whitney, off you go. Escorted by an army of angels to your heavenly father. When you sing before him, don’t you worry. You’ll be good enough.”

Many other people spoke, saying similar things- something along the line of “Whitney, you’re in heaven now.”

I even saw several people on my Facebook feed who updated their profiles with similar statements.

This troubles me.

Now, I’m not saying definitively that Whitney is in Heaven or Hell. The reality is that I don’t know, and the only one who knows besides Whitney is God. Ultimately, God is the only one who knows our destination.

I also know it is greatly comforting to believe that a deceased loved one is “in a better place” or “no longer in pain”.

However, it seems greatly presumptuous to me to assume that Whitney is in Heaven.

I guess my thoughts keep going back to Galations 5. Paul writes “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.” Basically he’s saying, your inner heart comes out through your outer actions.

I can say, with reasonable certainty, that Billy Graham is a Christian and will go to heaven. (Probably won’t be long, either, since he’s so old!) This is because, if you look at his actions, he has consistently worked to spread the Word of God. His actions have promoted Jesus, and only Jesus.

I can also say, with reasonable certainty, that Osama Bin Laden was not a Christian, and that today he is not in Heaven. Now, only God truly knows the secrets of Osama’s heart, and it is possible that he was secretly a Christian. Had he sought forgiveness, I firmly believe that Christ would have forgiven him and welcomed him into God’s presence. But based on his actions, I would say that is unlikely.

Whitney, I guess… Whitney falls into a more ambiguous area. Her actions do not clearly define her as a follower of Christ or not. It is very possible that she was a Christian, and honestly I hope she was. But I can’t say with any degree of certainty how she felt about Jesus. It makes me uncomfortable that people are saying, with great conviction, that Whitney is in Heaven, when in fact we cannot know that with any certainty.

I didn’t even realize this until I saw the news story…

Today is the 10 year anniversary of an unforgettable ice storm. Hard to believe it’s only been 10 years, yet at the same time it feels like it was much longer than that.

Some of you may remember that I was in an accident in a different ice storm a little over eleven years ago. I nearly died in that accident. I haven’t written up my account of that accident for this website yet, but I will eventually. Suffice it to say that I have been extremely cautious around ice ever since that.

Ten years ago, I was a freshman in college in Warrensburg, MO. This “unforgettable” ice storm was my first ice storm since my accident, and it was terrifying. The power went out all over town. Tree limbs came down. Sidewalks and buildings were coated with a thick layer of ice. Truthfully, the ice was pretty, at first- until it melted, and its destruction was laid bare. But all I could think of was of my earlier accident.

The next two or three days were a blur. I vividly remember the emotions I felt, but everything else is fuzzy. It was terrifying. I trembled and shook. I struggled to breathe. The physiological symptoms of my fear were almost more than I could handle.

People I trusted were convinced I would not be safe in my dormitory because there was no power. They drove me all over town- first to one house, until the power went out there, then to another house, until the power went out there, then to another house- over and over. Finally they realized that the power was out all over town and there was no point in driving around any more.

I couldn’t articulate it then, but I was terrified. Beyond terrified. I was more alone than I’d ever known, trapped in multiple vehicles, driving on the same ice that nearly killed me once. I was sure I would die before the storm was over.

Ten years. Wow. So much has changed since then. Thankfully my life is infinitely better now than it was then. Yet the memories are so vivid- it is humbling to remember where I was, in light of where I am today.

I forgot how much I love getting a church and its technology ready for the Sunday service.

It’s just so rewarding to do the work and then to be able to see the results on Sunday. Plus I love being able to use my technical skills in this way. Not to mention it’s fantastic to be able to work with a minister who I respect, and who likewise appreciates my contributions.
This minister has encouraged me previously to apply for an opening on his staff, as I’ve mentioned before. It is just so, so flattering. Plus I am mostly qualified for the position… and did I mention it is incredibly flattering? Part of me would love to work on this team. I mean, to work with a team of individuals that I respect, and who likewise respect me- it’s the kind of thing I’ve never had the opportunity to do before. (why do you think I’m self-employed?)

I doubt I will apply. It’s soooo tempting- the health insurance alone would be fantastic. But there’s a reason I’m self-employed. I’m a paradox. I’m talkative and outgoing, but I am an introvert to the core. It sounds contradictory but it’s true. My life and my experiences have taught me that it’s easier to remain introspective. People exhaust me. As I often say, I was born an extrovert but my life has made me an introvert.

That job, in many ways, would be a dream. But I just can’t see myself walking away from my position as a volunteer. As much as I would love to have that job… well… not yet.

In the past few days, I’ve been interacting with and helping a couple of the people on the staff at the church I go to. They’ve been incredibly kind and I’ve enjoyed it very much.

There is even an opening on the staff for which I am partially qualified, and they have encouraged me to apply for it. And they barely know me!

I am incredibly flattered by this. How could I not be? It means a lot to have someone tell me how much they appreciate the work I do.

Yet at the very least, I wonder if they can even comprehend the journey I’ve lived. My background is messy, to put it mildly. There is pain beyond measure in my past. There are mistakes. There are failings.

I fight a voice in my head that speaks fear. I remember, at previous churches, where the leaders were kind to me until they weren’t. Fear tells me to hold back. Fear wonders when the other shoe will drop, so to speak- when I will again be cast out.

I know, rationally, that the voice of fear is NOT the voice of truth. I know that the truth will not be what I fear. Furthermore, I know that I have nothing to fear, that I am never alone, that I will always have my Jesus.

Yet the fear is there. Somewhere in the perimeter of my mind, it whispers. It reminds me of the past and warns me protect myself so that can’t happen again.

There is a part of me that wants to tell them. To explain why I am so hesitant to join the church, or to apply for the job. Yet how can I even begin to describe what I’ve been through? It’s not exactly the kind of thing you can mention in passing. Plus, the fear tells me that I shouldn’t trust them, that I should just never tell anyone because then no one can hurt me. Ridiculous, huh?

Not to mention, would they even believe me? Heaven knows I’ve been rejected by people who refuse to accept my past, my journey. Worse, the people who rejected me were often the people who should have accepted me and guided me.

I can’t help but wonder how they would react if they knew. I’m not who they think I am. That job- I just can’t see any way that might turn out well. I’m sure the application process would include lots of questions about my history, and I just can’t imagine them accepting all the skeletons in my closets. And now that I’ve found a church that seems nice enough- if I get rejected and cast out again- I just don’t know if I can do it again.

I don’t know what the future holds. I have these 2 people who seem to be new friends. There are other people in the church who seem to be my friends. If you can’t tell, my mind is running in circles tonight. Not to mention I’ve been so busy that I’m crazy sleep deprived, and I rarely make sense when I’m sleep deprived. Perhaps it will all be a little clearer in the morning.

Today while I was working, I heard this song on the radio and couldn’t help but think of him.

(Sorry, couldn’t find the official music video.)

Tick tock, hear the clock countdown
Wish the minute hand could be rewound
So much to do and so much I need to say
Will tomorrow be too late?

Feel the moment slip into the past
Like sand through an hourglass
In the madness, I guess, I just forget
To do all the things I said

Time passes by, never thought I’d wind up
One step behind, now I’ve made my mind up

Today, I’m gonna try a little harder
Gonna make every minute last longer
Gonna learn to forgive and forget
‘Cause we don’t have long, gonna make the most of it

Today, I’m gonna love my enemies
Reach out to somebody who needs me
Make a change, make the world a better place
‘Cause tomorrow could be one day too late
One day too late, one day too late

Tick tock, hear my life pass by
I can’t erase and I can’t rewind
Of all the things I regret the most I do
Wish I’d spent more time with you

Here’s my chance for a new beginning
I saved the best for a better ending
In the end I’ll make it up to you
You’ll see, you’ll get the very best of me

Time passes by, never thought I’d wind up
One step behind, now I’ve made my mind up

Today, I’m gonna try a little harder
Gonna make every minute last longer
Gonna learn to forgive and forget
‘Cause we don’t have long, gonna make the most of it

Today, I’m gonna love my enemies
Reach out to somebody who needs me
Make a change, make the world a better place
‘Cause tomorrow could be one day too late

Your time is running out
You’re never gonna get it back
So make the most of every moment
Stop saving the best for last

Today, I’m gonna try a little harder
Gonna make every minute last longer
Gonna learn to forgive and forget
‘Cause we don’t have long, gonna make the most of it

Today, I’m gonna love my enemies
Reach out to somebody who needs me
Make a change, make the world a better place
‘Cause tomorrow could be one day too late

One day too late, one day too late
One day too late, one day too late

When I was 17, I almost died.
When I was 19, I almost died.

It’s not that I’m not glad to be alive- I am. But I have found very few people who understand, or even desire to understand, the traumas I’ve lived through or the ways those have changed me. That’s rough, some days.

It’s been a stressful summer. My income hasn’t quite been what it once was. My passion for my career isn’t what it once was. It leaves a lot of unknowns in my future, even more than usual.

I don’t fit into a box, and I love that about myself. I’m not even a little bit like anyone I’ve ever known. Yet I sometimes think the people around me want me to fit in a box. They want to compartmentalize me in a way that is neat and tidy and easy to understand.

I don’t know what the future holds, and truth be told, I’m a teensy bit afraid of it. But I’m excited too. Sometimes I just wish it would just hurry up and get here.