My Divine Question

Growing is difficult. There is no more difficult time than the present. Where future and past collide in depression and anxiety, where the chance of love and fear find their way in a weird type of hate/love relationship that expands into night’s of troubled sleep.

Last night I could not sleep until half way through my appointed schedule. Before sleeping, I felt death approach me in my chest, almost smelling its breath.

I always found it odd that in the times when I know something good can happen, when growth is good, the same challenges arise in front of me with each obstacle.  The fear of loss, not being good enough, saying the wrong words, let alone showing any sign of hope, edges me into a state of nonexistence.  

What ups the anty is the intermingling of sexual innuendos and loss of touch, challenging me to judge myself as not good enough.  Yet somehow, in some strange way, I am learning to no longer judge these as good or bad, yet disclosed and hidden. What is hidden shall be revealed. The lack of judgment brings me into the understanding that I am capable of loving myself. Thus bringing me into that divine question, revealing itself Monday, “Can you let go of the control over your loneliness, sorrow, and pain?” 


The Mornin’

I’ll go to a place where no one knows me.
For here they don’t even see:
Recognition is key to existence.
Knowing you’re alive without anyone else seeing me is glorious.
But being acknowledge and wanted by another human is extraordinary. They have forgotten the essentialness to their existence, while overlooking the cutting. The painful reminder that continues on.
Knowing there’s the Divine is immortal and powerful,
But so far away and yet so near.
How can this one Being know one so close?
No one around, I continue to let go of my heart’s desires,
Everywhere I go I see and use it to remind myself that to be is Being.
Happy faces, sad faces, all around the whiskey masks the breaking heart.
Overlooked and not understood, forgotten by those who smiled, waved, called me friend, and said, “See you next week.”
So much do I know I may never awake the next Mornin’.
It is what it is.
Existence is bliss and yet creates memories so dear, so deep, so powerful reminder to reach out to the dying. Inside.
Rest assured, those who say they love, forgetting what/who/them/they is in front of them, and they say once again:
“There is love and now go on your way. Be blessed I’ll have my own to be.”

Forgiving Pain

Into the depths, I go once again.
Wondering if I’ll meet a different Presence.
Deeper back, into the pain and sorrow,
isolation, rejection, accepting what may.
Is there someone else?
Is there a mighty Presence awaiting
to help me through?
Although sins are forgiven,
the effects of the harm from others
and myself have altered perception
that should never have been.
Yet slowly, in an innocent consumption,
I feel love and acceptance,
but not from any human to who cares not,
sees not, feels not, hears not, touches not.
Someone deeper. Consuming.
Like a fire, burning up the pain which is a part of me.
Although I’m not seen or heard,
I’m learning to see beyond the self appointed grave.
Religion says, “I’ll help yet at a distance so I’m not tainted or by your pain.”
Yet they see not their own pain, the depths of their God’s forgiveness.
Society says, “I’ll help! Yet stay away, I’m happy as my own. I refuse to see what I need or confront my own.”
Blinded by their own self-righteousness like the religious they blame they judge not.
These voices, quieter they become.
Slowly drowned out by the depths of the pain,
where I meet the Presence who loves.

Lies for Me

I lied to Myself today.
The Me was caught up in the blissful truths I was taught: the bad, the ugly, and the worse.
I had to lie, as hard as it was for Me.
The lies slowly become the truth I truly need,
I must sincerely believe.
The way I was taught to survive,
is to panhandle my wrongs.
Yet as wild as it may be,
my blissful truths, my dramatic ignorance,
was anothers, their own perfect personal lie;
my my how the darkness of another imprints
upon the innocent.
I lied to Myself today.
It was something I had to do.
For soon my lovely lies become the truth,
My soul’s missing piece that was stolen,
“I’ve been looking for you.
Who stole you and why has no one helped?
Let’s us ask this of ourselves, Me, Myself and I.
So we can help another lied soul who lies
in the danger of being torn by the system of Man.”

Daniel Whittaker

Flash Poetry

    An Unexplored Heart

He tried his best not to look at her during class.
Although had a few crushes growing up,
he let himself wander around in the feelings,
his apprehension keeping him at bay.
He found it difficult to speak to her and wasn’t sure if it was fear or what.
Everything was so far away, he felt.
He looked again at her;
her eyes glancing around, this time he caught her eye.
In that moment, he thought he knew something,
but he didn’t know what it meant, or just another figment of his imagination.
He always got the two confused.
She smiled and went back to work.
What did she think of that note he left her?
He smiled as he remembered her eyes glancing around the hall
with a smile on her face.
His heart, once again sank down into the depths of his stomach.
He couldn’t speak, his heart once again drowned in the darkness
Of his subconscious.
He left it at that and went back to work.

    A Light Memory

Mother’s gone now.
Was it past due or too soon?
He knew everyone leaves some time or another,
but that didn’t stop him from wondering how he was suppose to feel.
He felt a relief of emotions and clarity, although he loves her.
He felt an emptiness, although he knew she would always be close.
Yet these comforts did not bring warmth to his soul’s yearning to see her once again.
Looking through the old albums of childhood, pictures placed with caring hands,
taken by her loving yet soiled soul, such as he had known too well,
he kept that watchful eye over his own soul, such as she had never known.
The single memory of being rocked and sung to, broke through memories
laced with thoughtless words and emotional tenses of active submission
to powers of fearful control.
He smiled as he closed the picture book of his mind and in his hands,
she would say, that he had to look for a silver lining, a quiver of light through the clouds.
“Why?” he would ask. “How does that help me?”
“It’s a reminder.” She would say. “It reminds us that the sun always shines.”

“Face to Face with God” ( by Bill Johnson) paragraph commentary

I was on Facebook earlier and I came across this from a post. It made me realize a concept I’ve missed due to it rattling around in my head. Contemporary Christianity, not all but some due to a prevailing teaching, sidestep quite often by saying Christians are not meant to be sick, this is physical and mental. In Christianity we can look at being sick as a trial, tribulation, or maybe shutting up and realize and come to terms that being sick is a part of life in a world that is falling apart, and our bodies are a part of the body of Christ just as much as being in the state of falling apart. They have not yet been redeemed, they will not be until our bodies change to be like the Savior’s (Philippians 3:7-11, 20-21). We are susceptible to being sick, just like those who do not follow the Christian faith. We are not superhuman. Life changes are due to life changing perspectives, I get this. This being said, before I carry on, here is the paragraph from the book; my remarks are in parentheses.

“The sufferings of Jesus were realized in the persecution He endured and in the burden He carried for people. (The suffering was on the cross for the salvation of humanity, not a burden or disease. How was it a burden to teach and help others while he was on the earth? In God’s timing he was revealed who he was and his sacrifice on the cross.) He did not suffer with disease. That must be removed from our idea of Christian suffering. (He did not suffer from a disease, this was never in the idea of Christian suffering, and this was not his ultimate goal. This is a concept from the teaching, placed in the mindset of those who believe it.) It is vain to carry something under the guise of the will of God when it is something that He purchased that He might destroy its power over us. (The only power Christ destroyed eternally was Satan’s and sin’s power to control us. As believers we no longer have to obey the law of sin and death, but walk with the God who loves us. This is the will of God as expressed in the Bible.) An additional concept to remember is that He suffered that we might not have to suffer. For example, He bore stripes on His body applied by a Roman soldier so that they could become His payment for our healing. (Suffering is a part of life, consequences are fact. The New Testament states this numerous times. Naturally, if we try to separate ourselves from this aspect of Christ’s life, we lose not only the ability to minister to others who are suffering, we lose the ability to emphasize emphatically and see the world from God’s view which also includes his heart for the lost and hurting. It is a sad day when Christians forget that they too were rejected, lost, alone and hurting. Once we forget this, we lose sight of the power of the gospel of Jesus Christ. [Luke 4:16-21])” Bill Johnson. ‘Face to Face with God’

Now in context we really have no idea if Jesus ever had a cold, probably because any mention of it is a mute and pointless fact when compared to him as the Savior of the world through his death. Case in point: he is God’s Son and the Deity in bodily form (Colossians 1:15-23, 2:8-12). Although he was at risk to temptation, and hungered and had thirst like everyone else, he did not sin. I’m still not sure I can buy into the theology behind the author of “Face to Face with God” or anyone who speaks this roundabout theology. I’ve heard it often, mainly from those who do not have or had any type of illness, if they have I haven’t heard them mention it, thus stilling their miracle from God and ministry. We should remind ourselves what Christ saved us from, after all the Israelites were told to share their story to their children as a remembrance.
There’s a difference between suffering from the consequences of our sinful acts, which Jesus bore on the cross that brought us into his life, and suffering from being identified with Christ because the world hated him first. Those saying we are not meant to be physically or mentally ill might be denying that they’re in a fallen body and vulnerable to temptation, which goes against a huge part of New Testament scriptures. It also sidesteps a difficult concept to understand in contemporary Christian theology. The concept of being sick as a believer, either in physical or mental forms and why God allows suffering pervades many. There is no blanket statement or power quote that can give answers. These answers probably have to come from our experiences and changing our perspectives. This is the only way I can say this.
If you want to know how a person responds to being sick or have a type of disability if they are a Christian and go talk to them, get to know them and what they have learned, that is if they are open to sharing with you at that time. Christians are human beings after all. You might ask them what they have learned, has being sick strengthened their faith in God and appreciate who is with them during their time being sick. When my mother had breast cancer around 10 years ago she not only was able to come through it with a positive attitude but it also strengthened her faith in God for the remaining years of her life.
Such sweeping generalizations like the author made about what is or isn’t the will of God about suffering fly in the face of those who actually come out of being sick, or are still sick and have a transformation in their lives to help and encourage others. Being sick can be very bad, although having a cold isn’t exactly life threatening is it?
There is a verse in the Bible which is difficult to believe and must be experienced to understand for the person their self. It mentions all evil that Satan meant can be turned around for good by God’s hand alone. I’ve slowly had to realize this for my life. All I can do is share my experiences and not compare them with others, that’s all anyone can do. Speaking only goes so far, we need actions and experience to fully understand what goes on in our lives. No amount of “name-it claim-it” will enable you to get by life on a breeze. It’s only a fairy tale.

The Pudding Box

It can be difficult to grow and move past a way of thinking that we’ve been raised with or gained through another person’s actions upon us that caused some form of negative or maybe we could call it, a malnourished way of thinking. And when we encounter a society that has this preset form of characteristics and hallmarks of what a person is and what a person does the person is automatically placed into that and certain stigmas just fall into place and carried over into the rest of their lives.
But there is a way of getting out of this box there is a way out of a mode of thinking that we’ve been taught for generations. I don’t care about the box, I can’t care about the box. I’ve thought about the box too often. It’s the way of getting out of it that’s becoming more important. I’ve been taught about the box my whole life in religion, in society, in work, in education centers. What is important is seeing what is inside us even when we think no one else sees it, they possibly do. Because no matter what we hear it will not seep in because the filter of our hearts and minds are cluttered with brutal ideas and imaginations of what we believe about ourselves and what we’ve been taught about ourselves. This is the stupid box that we corral ourselves in to feel secure from the challenges of life we’ve been given. To mention The Doctor, we’re a planet of pudding brains.
We’ve been given life, breath, talents and abilities and a way of seeing something that no one else has. Regardless of what happens out there, outside of ourselves, what matters is what we allow to be inside of us, what we allow to come in. What we see, hear, feel, taste and smell will always come into our minds and bodies, it makes us aware of the situation but it does not make us a part of it, but that is not what we should be obsessed with. We’re obsessed with preludes and prequels and what ifs and possibilities. This way of thinking actually stifles us. What we should know is our freedom that we keep pressing back inside of ourselves. This is the key. What we allow to stay will either help us grow or foster and infest into a dirty filthy virus that will destroy us and seek to destroy others around us.
I slipped through the cracks of the education system. And society brands those who do as worthless and an annoyance upon society. We’re law breakers, mentally ill, sinful, deadbeats, addicts and whatever idiotic label they have. Unfortunately we’ve carried on that label because that’s what we do. As human beings we unconsciously carry what we know from others. We’re carriers of a label virus and we pass it onto those we can.
So how do we break this virus? This box? This is where it gets harder, and possibly the loneliest. This is a rite of passage that very few get to have, even the people who show themselves to be well kept.
Firstly, instead of seeing these labels and the situation we’re in or the mode of thinking we have to scare us as it rises inside of us which is set off by an outside circumstance, the circumstance is actually a scary passage through dark woods that calls out to us to go in, to see the treasures that are inside of you. But why is it scary? Because only the brave who didn’t know they were brave will rise to the challenge, only those with compassion who didn’t know they were compassionate will reach out. It’s a test and when it calls out to you, it believes in you.
Next way of breaking that box, that negative way of thinking, is to go into the situation and embrace. It is to lay yourself open to the possibility of falling. But that’s okay. Falling is part of nature, part of gravity in the world. Those we look down on you or try to discourage you with words only a pudding brain will think up seek only to destroy you and all you have to do is say no! I will not believe such insane lies about me! You can keep your measly stinking words to yourself pudding brain! No, don’t say that, that’s immature. We’d be just like them. And we’re in a rite of passage that very few have and partake of.
This is a start, a scary start. It’s where I am. Remember, there is hope and love and others out there who are going through the same thing. A band of brothers and sisters, a family.