Patmos Isle

The life of a Pastor, one who has been beaten and left to die by his own kind.

Location: Texas, United States

I consider myself as one that has seen the dark side of humanity and has lived to speak of it.

Sunday, June 19, 2005


"Prayer and love are really learned in the hour when prayer becomes impossible and your heart turns to stone." Thomas Merton

Saturday, June 18, 2005

Do you need me?

I was just wondering... Do you need me?

I would like to disappear if not, I would like to find a valley to rest in, or a cave to vanish in.

Maybe I could just disappear and be known as one that has mysteriously gone away. You see I feel as if I already have. You see your silence is as death to me. Your hiding has no longer be a conquest, but it has conquered.

My knees are now feeble, I thought that I could go longer if I was not standing, but now my knees they, well they have failed me.

Maybe I too could climb a mountain and see just the backside of you? It's not like I want a book deal and to be on TV, with my latest experience of you. I just would like to know if you need me?

I guess I should pray for tears, that I might weep again, it seemed like then I at least felt something. Let the tears roll down my face oh God, may they once again crease my face, may they once again create their valley, their river bed.

I know I have failed you, I know that I am not what I at least try to make others believe about me, yet, could not just this one moment, I see me as you would see me.

I promise, I promise, that if I could just catch a glimpse of you, I too will put my face to the ground and cry Holy, Holy, Holy! It is not that I ask for treasures that might make me sound rich, I just ask for the treasure so that I can eat again.

Do You need me? Would you please answer me.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

There was a time

In life I believe there is this cup that is set before each of us, the cup that we must drink from in life.

There are days, weeks, months, and for some years that we must drink from the bitter cup of life.

There are days, weeks, months and for some years that we must drink from the sour cup of life.

There are days, weeks, months and for some years that we must drink from the salty cup of life.

There are day, weeks, months and for some years that we must drink from the refreshing cup of life.

For me, as I looked into my cup, I have found it empty, and it is now collecting dust that seems to have fallen from the sky.

It makes me wonder, did I voice my complaint one time too many, and so He shows me now, what it is to have nothing. Have I complained one time too many and therefore I am given a cup that can no longer hold even the sorrow of life.

Does He empty the cup of them that complain? I thought He would just change the contents, I did not know He would stop filling it. I feel NOTHING. I lay in my bed, I sit in my office, I stand in my shower, and nothing.

There was a time that at least I could find others like me, that I could join in drinking with, I mean, even sorrow enjoys company. Is there anyone who's cup is dry? Is there anyone who's cup is empty? I did not realize how lonely this place would be.

Maybe I should have just said thank you for filling my cup. Maybe I should have just found myself content in the cup. Maybe I have the cup upside down, and that is why it is empty.

Saturday, June 11, 2005

Have you forgotten?

My bed is soaked with sorrow, my heart has been weighted down with fear.

This heart of mine has been overtaken with doubt, as I stood in a worship service last night, surrounded by about 500 people, with hands lifted and the hot bitter tears of grief burned my face. I begged of Him, "Please Father, do not let me lose Faith now, I have come so far".

More than 24 hours now has passed, and I have come to the conclusion that I am not sure if I actually believe what I have believed all my days of being "born again". Now please understand, I believe in God the Father, God the Son, God the Spirit. I believe there is but only one way to the Father, and that is through His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ.

Yet, it is now that I wonder, is salvation for just a coming thing? Or is salvation practical for my today. You see my voice has become nothing more than a whisper and even at times, just that which is called moans and groans that we are not to understand. Yet even my whisper is.... "God save me from this darkened forest, God save me from this city of the dead." Yet, I find only that I am pushed, and pressed to go further into the forest and it is has only grown colder in this city of the dead.

I know it might sound childish, but I have said to Him, maybe better so that I just wait for thy coming, and by my waiting I not mean with hope, but with a surprise if it should ever come. You see I sit in my office and yet another new day is upon us, and I do my best to say... "This is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it." Because I am not even sure if He is in my today, maybe he is just in my future.

Oh how my words haunt me that I said to a people who call me Pastor. "Your sorrow today will be your song tomorrow". "That you should lift your head up and shout... Thank God it is midnight, because now I know my new day is coming!!"

So I say again, with this new day having arrived.... "Oh God you are beautiful, let they beauty shine on me, let not thy servant go forgotten, but remember me, as you intercede for your people".

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Just let me surface

I had finally come to the place that I could see the light after having been taking to the darkness of the deep water. My eyes were beginning to experience the reaction to dim light, after having been exposed to nothing more that darkness for so long.

Then it happened, this hand grabs me around the ankle, and as hard as I try to make him let go, it is of no use. The light fades, the water thickens. I fell as if my throat is being closed off. The pressure of this deep water reminds me of the pressure that the Dr. said to me as he inserted five long thick needles into my back.

I think he knows, that if he lets me surface, that I will refuse to return. I think he knows that this darkness is not only for my character, but for my safety as well.

I promise, I will return, just let me surface, just let me feel the sun beating down on my face, just for a minute. I promise, I promise, I will return, I will find my own way back. I am so good at that.

Just let me surface, please.

Sunday, June 05, 2005


I have realized that my blogg would be great served with cheese, because they say that wine goes good with cheese. Sorry, a very bad joke that I should have forgotten a LONG time ago.

Yet in the midst of this dark hour, I cannot but help say... My Shepherd is good. You see I deserve a lot worse. I deserve His touch and their be boils appear, I deserve his voice and I lose a limb, I deserve His finger tip to move over me and I be stricken with some horrible stuck facial expression. He is a Good Shepherd.

Yet He still awakens me day by day with all my limbs and no boils to be found and well I am not all that handsome, but I will say it could be a lot worse. He is a Good Shepherd

He has never let me die from thirst, and although I would rather have prime rib with a nice lobster tail, He somehow is able to nourish me with my tears. He is a Good Shepherd.

I have always seemed to find my way, though I did not understand completely all of the valley. I have always seemed to have stumbled upon the table, as I walked out of dark place. I have always seem to have noticed grass stains later on my clothes, where I was actually sitting in green pastures. Somehow people always notice even in my darkest times and in great despair, that my face shines with a new glow, I find out later, that my head has oil upon it. Last but not least, I realize that my hand is heavy, and when I look down it's because there is this cup that is full. He is a Good Shepherd.

I love Him, even though it might sound I am confused with Him. I love Him, even though my heart seems dry. I love Him, even yet my ears ring with my silence, and the most amazing thing about it, is He is great and good enough to know that I think He is a Great Shepherd, even when it just hurts to much to say it.

Saturday, June 04, 2005

Tick, Tick, Tick

Once again I have found myself going down the stairs of fear and a sense of hopelessness.

They say, they will never be able to fix me, they say that this pill will help, and it did, but for some reason it's like what little hope I had found, has vanished like a vapor. I thought this was going to solve my problem, yet now, I see more of my problem than I see of their solution.

The good Dr's tell me, they have never seen anything like this, nor do they ever think they can do anything for me. I know that it still ticks, because I can feel it again, this pain, this pain that grips my throat with fear. I am being silenced by this thing called pain, this thing that once made me cry out... "HELP ME" now because people look at me with eyes of sarcasms, I am now silenced.

This ticker has caused me to fear the looks of men, the words of women, and the nods of them that say they are professionalls.

I find myself weak, at a time, that I need to be strong. I finally submitted to this walk, now He who called me to the walk, must show Himself strong.

Friday, June 03, 2005

1, 2, 3 ~ !!!

The last words my uncle said to me as I was jumping into the pool for the very 1st time.

I was 7, and I was scared. I remember it so well, because we were at a hotel, out of town, because my grandfather had an accident, an accident that cost him his life. He was doing what he LOVED to do, fish. My grandfather drowned.

Now here I am at 7 years of age, standing on the diving board, scared that I might have an accident, yet my uncle assures me, it is going to be ok, I will catch you as you enter the water. "On the count of 3, ok, you ready, 1,2,3 ~ !!!

By mistake I jumped, by mistake I trusted, by mistake I thought he would do what he said.

Now some 26 years later, I can still see my grandfather in his casket, I remember the 21 gun salute, I remember the flag they handed to my grandmother, I remember my mother crying.

I remember it oh so well, because I remember standing there, thinking to myself, if only someone would have been there to catch us, maybe neither one of us would be dealing with death. My uncle that hot summer day became the one that I could never trust again, he became the one that I avoid and even some 26 years later, I can't see him any different than who he showed himself to be.

I feel as if I have spent 26 years on that diving board, all so alone, oh so scared.
Yet I keep hearing this inner voice.... 1,2,3 ~ !!!

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Ok, one more time

At the place that I want to just sit out the next season. I just want to fake an injury and be benched for the next year. I honestly believe that people would understand, that they would say... "You deserve this Patmos, you have been so faithful".

At the place that I want to just show up at home base with no bat in my hand, and let the pitcher strike me out. I honestly believe that people would understand, that they would say... "You deserve this Patmos, you have been so faithful".

At the place that I want to just stay in the car, not even climb the stairs in the bleachers, maybe just sit in the car and listen to it on the radio. I honestly believe that people would understand, that they would say... "You deserve this Patmos, you have been so faithful".

At the place that I want to just stay in the recliner at the house, watching the game. I honestly believe that people would understand, they would say... "You deserve this Patmos, you have been so faithful".

At the place that I want to just watch the game from the bed, so that I can go back to sleep when the team is not winning. I honestly believe that people would understand, they would say... "You deserve this Patmos, you have been so faithful".

At the place that, well they are all waiting... Ok, one more time, after this, I promise... No more.