The following and all of the other episodes to come are snapshots of what goes on in my head, now and in the past. There are times none of this will make sense. There will be times when I might get lucky and the blog I post will be well constructed and will flow like a mountain stream to an awaiting lake below. Other times it will seem like the ramblings of a madman and you’ll ask yourself, “What the……?”
You should probably get use to the latter.
EPISODE TWENTY: God’s Coming. Look Busy.
The following is strictly my opinion. If it’s not yours, I get it. I respect that. But just respect mine.
There have been some dreams in my life that effected me in big ways. Some gave me direction, some have been warnings. Some have solved problems and some have caused them. Just this morning (the day I’m writing this), I had a horrible one. I was in the hospital with cancer and other than my wife, daughter and step-son, nobody came to visit me. To me, that would be worse than the big C.
Let’s hope (and pray) that one doesn’t come true.
Now, when I was a kid, about the age of nine or ten, I had a dream about God.
I had bunk beds and I could switch from the top to the bottom. During the Winter, I would sleep on top and during the Summer, I’d sleep on the bottom. It was cooler.
But the dream I had, I was asleep on the top bunk and I could see myself. Above me was a small group of clouds. It was no more than two feet in diameter. And coming from the middle of this cloud form was a hand.
The hand of God.
It reached down and gently touched me on the head. Whole handed.
I woke up. I looked above me hoping to see the hand rising back into the clouds. There was nothing there. But I couldn’t help but smile.
I remember that dream as if it happened last night. It was so vivid. And I’d love to have it again.
Time passes and you get older. Things happen in life, good things, great things, bad things and horrible things. If you have faith, there are things that strengthening it and weaken it. I’m guilty of that. There have been times that I almost gave up on faith.
Understand, I’m not a bible thumper or one of those that think the Earth has been around for only two thousand years or something like that. I’m not one of those that go to church (say what you want) or think that if you don’t believe, I’ll look down on you.
I consider myself a man of science. I also believe that science and religion go hand in hand.
If you don’t believe in God, I can hear you asking me, “WHY?”
I’ll tell you why. What I’m about to tell you really happened. And I have a witness.
After my daughter was born, her mom and I changed. Having a child will do that. We had started to go to church every Sunday. On one particular Sunday, we had got home and put our daughter on our bed to take a nap. We put pillows around her so she was safe from falling off. She was only a few months old at the time.
We closed the door to where it was just a few inched from being shut. Her mom and I went into the living room and we were talking.
I heard something, a small cough. Being a new parent, my child sonar was pinging. I looked at her mom to see if she heard something. She hadn’t. But something kept nagging at me. Something told me to get up and go check on our daughter.
I went down the hall and opening our bedroom door. There was my daughter, on the bed…and her face was blue. She was moving but making no sound.
I rushed to her and picked her up. She was choking. I held her as I looked into her mouth. At the back of her mouth was something purple. It was a small hair barrette. We didn’t take them out of her hair when we got home. She had reached up and popped it into her mouth.
I reached my fingers in and was just able to pick it out of her throat. Only than, did she make a sound. She bawled her head off.
I threw the cursed barbette across the room and we both held our daughter.
I heard a cough. I shouldn’t have heard that little cough. I was down the hall, the door was almost closed.
I shouldn’t have heard her.
But I did.
And I really believe I was helped to hear my daughter. If you had been there, you would understand what I mean.
I know. There are ways you can explain it. I’ve run them all through my head for years.
But…I can’t deny the truth.
God spoke to me. It really wasn’t a cough I heard. I heard GET UP. GO NOW!!!
Still, even after that, I have had moments that my faith has faltered. When you have depression, it will happen. You wonder what you did so wrong that He would cause me to feel this way. What am I paying for? What am I still paying for?
I don’t go to church anymore. I wonder if I should but I have never felt comfortable there. I have never found one that got me excited to go again. And, honestly, I have never been to one that I wasn’t made to go to. Whether it was parents or ‘love’ for somebody, I never went because I wanted to. I may have started to resent church because of that.
But despite that, I pray. Most days, twice a day, in the car on my way to work and at night before I go to sleep. And it’s pretty much the same things.
I still believe.
Personally, I don’t care if you believe or not. I don’t care if you believe in another religion or not. I don’t care if you believe in Heaven or Hell or not.
I just care that your are the best person you can be. I just care you are nice and respectful to those that are to you.
As long as we are all like that, what does it matter?
I’ll keep praying because it makes me feel better.
Who knows? Maybe He’ll speak to me again.
Or maybe He is. I just need to listen harder…
July 17th, 2016
I’ve decided to keep a blog about how I’m dealing with depression. I’m going to consider this a form of therapy. It might not help anybody else but it might help me.