I am not My Mountain

Recently in the online infertility support group I’m a part of, there was a thread asking everyone to introduce ourselves.  The specifics were, how long have you been married, where you live, how long have you been trying to conceive, and what your diagnosis is. 

I am blessed by this group.  It is a group of Christian women, struggling to conceive, but believing in the power of God.  I joined in the last 4 weeks and I look forward to getting to know these women who understand the desire to hold a child and the weariness that comes with waiting. So I really like the idea of knowing more about the lives of the women I was praying for and who are praying for me.  But I worry, when waiting for a miracle; we are giving too much power to medical diagnosis.  I’m not saying cancer patients shouldn’t seek treatment or that diabetics should throw out their insulin; don’t get me wrong.  But I am saying, when God whispers the promise of children to you and your loved ones, why not believe that promise by living it; speaking it? Why not put your faith in God’s word and not a test. 

Confessions of a Christian Cracker

I'm Sorry!

As a Caucasian male-American I pretty much came out of the womb feeling ashamed. Oppression, racism, misogyny, KKK, The Trail of Tears, etc., etc.… appear to be way too much for a white man in America to rise above. 

False Dilemmas

I have seen a lot of proselytizing lately, mostly by the conservative religious right, stating things like: “Veterans should come before migrants!” or “Veterans needs should come before illegals!” As a United States citizen you would be hard-pressed to disagree; and if you did, you more than likely will be labeled a liberal kook, or worse yet, an ISIS sympathizer. While this propaganda machine steamrolls along, and so many angry individuals hitching their patriotic wagons to it, I wonder if they have ever considered that this just might be a political trick bag?

The False Road

God originally created the Soul in its own nature: perfect purity, perfect calm, perfect silence. It is a vitrtual well spring gushing from the very veins of the Heavenly Father Himself. This is what allows mankind to commune with the divine. We hunger for it. But we often go astray.

This Soul can never be physically injured, never marred…but it can be defiled. Yet all things added to it do for a time trouble it; and this is sorrow. Sorrow accrued can eclipse the loving rays of God and lead to bitterness, deception, and depression. This yoke is much too heavy for man to bear.

My Own Internal Riots

I keep telling myself to write this blog. I’m supposed to write this blog, this big brave blog that holds me accountable for my own bullshit.  But whenever I get serious about such accountability, I want to wallow in my own bullshit, I want to roll around in it and make friends with my own bullshit. Instead of writing this inspirational post where I call myself out, I just want to write bad poetry that resembles bad 90s alternative songs.  It would go something like this: You don’t know what it’s like. YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT ITS LIKE.  Or something sappy, yet smooth like, “I will not be idled with despair….”  And yet.

 Self awareness is hard; it’s much easier to just wallow.  I will try my best.