A picture.

Even though its over, and it was my choice to end it; and even though its been almost 4 years since it happened; and even though I know you weren't the right person for me; and even though I learned a lot from that situation; and even though I'm better off.....

Seeing a picture of the way we were still makes it hard to breathe.

Today is today.

I wanted to go to work yesterday and not feel anxiety. Not feel stressed. Not feel like I just want to run away and never look back. But that wasn't how it began.

As soon as I got there, Akshar was at the door. And he was being so cute. He does this thing when he answers the door where he tries to open it and run away and hide before I see him. But the door is quite huge and made of this magnificent wood, which is very heavy, so he doesn't get more than 2 steps away before I see him. So I think, "This is going to be a good day, he's happy".

Well, as soon as I sit him down and ask him to start reading, things go south. He's goofing off, purposely falling off the couch, and taking 35 minutes to read 1.5 chapters, which are only about...5-6 pages long. And boy, if this doesn't annoy me, I don't know what does. But I can't just scream at him, and I can't hit him, so it takes everything in me to talk to him rationally. And he just gets mad because he doesn't want to read, so we struggle through the rest of it.

How can I blame him? He's 6 years old and reading chapter books that are way too advanced for him, but you can't tell his mom that. He has to read all the same books his brothers read at that age. The Indian culture has to be perfect academically, and they have to be financially secure. Beyond secure. Those are the two requirements, so here I am.

But after we finish all the rest of the work, which takes another 45 minutes, we sit down and have a heart-to-heart. Me and a 6-year old. These are the people I have heart-to-heart talks with. I can't say I don't get a lot out of them, though. I love them.

And then it hits me. I don't do this job just for the incredible pay. And I don't do it to try and help these kids become genius students. I do it because they are starving for positive attention. They are yearning, crying, screaming out for someone to love them unconditionally, whether they get a 100% on a test or a 50%. And that's truly what I believe God allows me to provide for them. So once again, I stay. And I promise myself to finish out this school year with them.

And later, Avi and I work on this huge game board project. And we just talk and laugh and bond. He and I are very close. I've worked with him since we was 7, and he's now 11. He looks up to me, I can tell, but more than that, I think he values me. And I truly value him. He is intelligent beyond measure. But what I love about him the most is that he doesn't understand me when I tell him I'm going to be proud of him no matter what grades he gets. I tell him if he tries his best, truly, then I'm proud of him. And that's...foreign to him. And that not only breaks my heart, but it makes me love him more, and it makes me not ever want to leave him.

So, here I am. Still sticking around with those boys. And God blessed me with this family. Even when it seems cursed, even when I want to punch Shenoo in the face, smack her across the face and tell her she's being a terrible mother, SOMEHOW get her to understand that she just needs to LOVE her children for exactly who they are, I am blessed, because I get to change lives. In exactly the way God has intended me to change them.

Encouraged. Uplifted. Inspired.

Sometimes you just have to be reminded

I woke up at 3:30am this morning. The reason why is because I hate my job. I know that hate is a strong word to use, and you're right, I don't really hate it. In fact, I love that I only have to work 8-10 hours/week and still make incredible money. I'm completely fortunate and God blessed my soul with this job. And I'm in love with those boys that I work with. In love with their hearts and their souls and their laughter. But there are certain aspects to the job that I can't handle sometimes, and that literally keeps me up at night. Mainly, their mother, aka my boss. She wants so much from me and yet, I can't deliver it, because I can't make her children pass a test or do well on a project. I can help, but beyond that, it is out of my control. And I quite like the feeling of loss of control, because it forcibly reminds me that I truly have no control over anything in this world, and I can't accept the responsibility.

So this morning, Tyler had sent me an amazing verse out of the bible to wake up to. Tyler is a person that lives on the other side of the country (Portland) that has unexpectedly come into my life, but with such passion, and such dedication and encouragement, that I know, truly, God placed him in my path for the sole purpose of using him as a prayer warrior, a friend, and to hold me accountable in my struggles. He and I are similar in many ways, and it excites me to know there are people in this world that I can rely on that completely understand the exact place I am in and the struggle I deal with daily.

The verse he shared with me comes from 1 Timothy 4:8-10, and in the message version it says: "Workouts in the gymnasium are useful, but a disciplined life in God is far more so, making you fit both today and forever, You can count on this. Take it to heart. This is why we've thrown ourselves into this venture so completely. We're banking on the living God, Savior of all men and women, especially believers". Wow. I mean, that hits me like a ton of bricks. And that was the way I started my morning, at 8am. This from a man I've never even met personally, but that I feel this incredible bond with. That is God's work in my life, and in his, right there.

I had to share back with him Luke 14:33 which says, "Simply put, if you're not willing to take what is dearest to you, whether plans or people, and kiss it goodbye, you can't be my disciple". To me, that verse means so much. It deals with our struggles head on. It is God saying, give this up. Give up this love for something more than me. I am more than enough, I am more than you'll ever find anywhere on earth. And when I think of it that way, I can breathe.

In your struggle, I don't know what gets you through. I don't know if you try to find things to get you through, or if you just let it control you. For me, I can't fully let it control me. I have before, that's definitely true. But a part of my heart is so gripped by the love of my God that He always squeezes so tightly at some point that it squashes out the part that was trying to take me away from Him. And these verses, this encouragement from a friend...this is what gets me through.

Phil 3:7-14 is my life verse. I won't type it all out, I'll make you go on a hunt to find what it says. But trust that rereading this verse this morning gave me the push I needed to go on. I can't often stand the sight of my boss, but reading this verse, I know that God will always provide for me, and I know that He'll always give me the strength to go on, and He'll never put me in a situation that has no purpose. So I know I'm meant to be in their lives right now and vice versa. And I know that its because they have a mother who wants to see them succeed academically and in riches more than she cares for their hearts and souls, and He has placed me in their lives to create a balance there, and encourage them, love them, protect them, and make them feel alive.

After reading these verses and speaking briefly via text with Tyler, I read a bunch of short stories that the oldest one is working on and has to use to make an actual board game around, so now I'm set on the stories, wrote down a bunch of questions he can use for the question and chance cards, and made a schedule of how to knock out this project. God does great things, because He has set my heart and soul at ease for the moment now.

Press Play

This is the story of me. This is the history of a man that was, is, and will be. This will be the written account of a man that struggles with a beast everyday of his life. These are the scars and battle wounds received along the way. This is the account of how those wounds have been healed, and continue to heal each time a new one is earned.

I am just a man. And it's odd to even consider myself a man, because there has been such a struggle to get to where I am that sometimes I feel I don't deserve the title of 'man'. But what makes a man? Someone with huge muscles? An amazing athlete? Someone that works out all the time, constantly trying to improve himself for...himself? Or is it someone that drinks a lot of beer, or orders his wife around constantly neglecting her needs? To be a man, does that mean I need to eat lots of red meat, grab my nuts, and watch football? I don't know what it means to be a man, but over the years, I have begun to form my own opinion of what it truly means to be a man.

Being a man isn't about testosterone. To be considered a man in my book, it means struggling with the cross we bear, and yet overcoming it again and again. Being a man doesn't mean you are perfect, it means you are imperfect, and you acknowledge that imperfection rather than try to hide it. In my eyes, being a man means respecting the woman you love, honoring and cherishing your family, comforting your friends beyond the point of a beer and some peanuts while you blow off steam watching the game at a  local bar. To be a man could quite possibly be one of the hardest things to accomplish.

I don't know where I'll end up, but I know where I've been, and I know where I'm at, and I can say that through it all, it has been hard. It has been harder than I'd ever have expected it to be ten years ago. I didn't think I would ever be where I am now had you asked me when I was 16. But then again, who really knows at that age? But over the years, more specifically the last 5 years or so, I have begun to understand more and more what it means to be not just a man, but to be a human, to be alive. I've tried searching for it in the world of music. Oh the stories I could tell you of my high school and early college years spent following my favorite bands around the state, going from show to show, earning my stripes in the mosh pits, sweating with stranges, and singing so loud with every piece of my soul. But I didn't find my purpose there.

I've tried finding it in another person. I dated many girls hoping to find that piece of me that would finally complete my humanity and make me whole. When I didn't find it in those girls, I thought I must be looking in the wrong place. Of course, I was looking in the wrong place: girls. So I tried finding it in boys. I seemed to attract them more easily, and I had an attraction to them, as well, so this seemed completely logical. Tell me if you think I found it there, and I'll tell you that I actually think that took me farther away from finding what my soul was truly searching for.

When I didn't find it in men or women, I began spiraling downhill, fearing I would never find what it is I was searching for. That this gaping hole inside me would forever be filled with a cold breeze that wouldn't stop. In a desperate attempt to fill this hole and find some sort of relief, even just the most minimal of reliefs, I turned toward alcohol and dancing. The club life. I went out every week, for hours upon hours, staying out until the sun rose. Dancing with my "friends", drinking until I couldn't see straight, sharing sweat and glances with anyone and everyone I could. Something had to come of it, right? If you think that's where I found it, then maybe you're in the place I was at that point. But I hate to break it to you, I didn't ever find it there. And truthfully, a part of me knew I never would. But I had to try.

We're at the present time now. And although a part of me still feels a little sadness inside, I have been made whole. That gaping hole has lessened and lessened over the years. And I'm sure that a few of you will stop reading this post after the next few sentences, and that's okay. Because I know you'll stop reading out of fear. You'll stop reading because you aren't ready to admit the truth to yourself yet. Lying is easier than be devastated at the fact that this isn't going to be a quick fix, and that it's always going to be hard and always is going to be a struggle, but when you finish running from what you know is the only truth, you'll be right where I'm at. We all have to run for a little bit. It's all about the chase sometimes with us humans. And I think God knows that. In fact, I know that He knows that.

I found my soul at the foot of the cross. I don't care how cliche or how corny or pathetic that may sound to some people. I honestly don't. I mean, even at this moment, it is hard for me to see the screen and the words I am typing through the bleary eyes of a sinner that cries out continually to a God who never gives up on you. It's hard for me to even type this let alone say it because we are SO unworthy of any such reward. Completely and totally unacceptable. Which I think makes it harder for me to even grasp in the first place.

When I gave up the desires of my sinful, selfish heart, I began to feel peace for the first time. I began to actually feel my heart getting stronger, mending, refocusing, reforming in the image of MY God. The God that saved me from depravity. The God that took my 5+ years of running away, of alcohol, of sex, of pure selfish and sinful desires, and threw them away! Just TOSSED them out like the trash that they were. Never went back out and routed around it to wave in my face at another point when I would stumble again. He FORGOT them. He didn't acknowledge them ever again. He poured and poured and poured forgiveness all over my scars, my body of flesh that was rotten to the core, my heart that had stopped beating.

And that is where I am at right now. Today. In this moment. It will change again, I'm sure of it. I'll do something that will push me away from Him. I'll go after MY desires instead of following the call that I hear so clearly in my heart. And those cracks in my heart that I'll get, I know they'll be from me. And yet, I know that they'll never be there for long, because MY God doesn't give up on me. He never lets me go. He never causes me to fall. He never lets go of my hand. He sews up my wounds with His blood, with His tears, with His flesh. He takes His flesh and places it on the places where I have ripped myself apart. And He tells me, speaks to my heart, and says, "I love you now, and I love you forever, and I will not ever stop saving your life. You are my child, and that is the most important thing to Me. I don't care how many times you mess up, nothing you could ever do would stop or even diminish My love for you."

And the tears flow. And the heart races. And I know, now and forever, in Him, I am home.

And I have so much growing to do. But this is the place I am in, right now, in this moment. He is making me something beautiful, because all we are, we are. And He thinks that is beautiful.