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.