Patmos Isle

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

Name:
Location: Texas, United States

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

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Just Get Over It

It was 11:25 p.m., as I stared at the clock in my bedroom. When she who cannot understand, because she will not even allow herself to hear my pain, raises her voice at me and says.... Just get over it!!!

I think to myself, what have I done to deserve this hate. The last I looked at our situation, I was doing everything for her. If there has ever been a queen who has been given so very much in life, I dare say it is the lady who promised "In sickness and health". I really don't understand what I have done too her, I really don't understand how she cannot see me as one who is on the inside curled up in a fetus position, wanting to be re-born, wanting not even a new life, but I will just take the former before it was altered.

I have done nothing to her, I have not said an unkind word, I have just sat in silence and my eyes trying to see a future, and while suffering much I have pulled out of my hat of magic, her meals, her laundry, her clean home, her warm baths, her long vacations that do not include me and what is it that I receive in return...
"Just get over it!"

As if I have put a collar and leash around this dragon and have made it my pet. It almost makes one wonder, who is the dragon. I was told last night that it looked like we needed to have a "serious talk", I tell you this truth, she is not prepared for a "serious talk" she does not want to cross that threshold with me. I try my best to just move on, to just get past what stupidity has said, I do not blame it on ignorance, for 11 years she has lived with me, no one can remain ignorant that long.

Friday, August 19, 2005

Absence

My absence as of late has not been my distance, it has been my resting.

Many know that I struggle with insomnia, it's hand is very strong and for some reason his arm is never short. It finds me and attaches itself, sometimes for hours and other times for days. This last time, eight days.

Finally he lost his hold and the last two have been resting and eating, I would say the best part of it, is the fifteen pounds I have lost. Yet for eight days, there was no appetite for either food or drink and of course no appetite for sleep.

So I have taken the time to replenish, returning to life is a very slow process, you feel guilty for sleeping so late, yet, your body is screaming... "Put thy head to rest"

I think the hardest thing of insomnia for me is the fact that I lose all track of time, days somehow blend together and the mind becomes a London fog. So now I sit in a office, that I swear I did not create such a mess, but my desk is piled more so than it ever has been. So I guess my journey shall continue.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Sensitive

I don't know what my problem has been lately. I mean, I have NEVER in my life be so sensitive around people (well only 33 years) I don't understand it and it is driving me really right over the edge.

Someone saying something that I would have laughed at 2 almost 3 months ago, today I just go to my office and shut the door and do anything I can; so that I won't just bust out in tears. I don't ever recall it being like this before. What scares me about it is, have I gone to a new place that I am not aware of? Have I allowed myself to go beyond what I know as familiar.

I can only say that what makes me upset is that someone has so easily upset me. What is my problem?!?

Sunday, August 14, 2005

Weakness

Here it is 9:40 a.m. on the Lord's Day, and I am ever so thankful that today we have a special guest speaker. I just don't know how in the world I could have preached today. I feel in my bones today such weakness, I have been to this place before, it always leads me to a hospital bed, with more fluids going in, than what is coming out. With Dr's standing over me, shaking their heads, telling me how much this is going to cost me in the long run of life. I lay in their bed silently, with my eyes half closed and my mouth shut from shame once again.

I remember the first time I dropped to the floor from exhaustion, I picked myself up and put it on my sleeve as a badge of honor, to only find their is no honor with Christ, I realized how it brought Him shame. How others looked upon Him as one that has heavy burdens and yoke's that are tight. I raised my hand to the Lord and said, it will never happen again, yet He knows the truth by now, I mean this will be the 6th time, who am I kidding. I hear it's ticking, I hear this bomb and it is ready to once again take control of my life, of my destiny.

It's as if, I have become it's slave. As if it owns me. My eyes are blood shot and the deep dark circles have returned again. My wife says to me, just lay still in the bed, you will fall asleep. She does her best to shackle me to the bed, yet my bed is great with sorrow and sleep is far from it. I lay there, trying to be spiritual, casting my cares upon Him, yet all that comes from it is that I awaken even more demons. To lay in the bed, to remain still, is impossible, so I again put on my sackcloth and arise to the couch, it is there that my flesh can moan, that my spirit can cry out with noises not know too man. I have in life questioned, what spirit is this? What spirit torments a man? What spirit causes man to crumble and lay helpless on his couch?

I am truly thankful, thankful that I don't have to be the voice today, I would no doubt be a voice in the wilderness.

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

Tired in the office

I sit here in my office or what some call the "Pastor's Study". In all honesty I am not only tired, but I have grown bored.

It amazes me at how time changes so many things. Things that we swore would never become old, they end up like that slice of bread that sits on top of the package, rather than in the package.

I think I have just grown stale, I have allowed myself to grow old before my time. I was told by many in ministry when I started out, that everyone goes through this time in their life that they don't want to leave ministry, they just want to be ministered too. It's not like I want to leave, I don't think I have anything to leave too, I mean, I do believe I killed my ox and burned my plow some 15 years ago.

So where is the one that carries this drink to the minister? Where is the one that has been given the ministry to minister to them who minister? I wonder, is there one? I wonder, who it is that ministers to the one who ministers to them that minister. Maybe that is the story, maybe he sits on top of the package of bread as well.

Monday, August 08, 2005

My worry with freedom

I guess the most troubling thing and no doubt the saddest thing is that I cannot even enjoy a moment of freedom. That moment when the grave clothes lose their grip and you are able to think clearly, you are able to breath with out fear.

Today has been that day. I awakened and felt like, what I can only imagine the earth feels as the rains come from above to cleanse and refresh creation. So I kept very still in my bed, not to move, not to tempt or awaken the forces of evil. I slowly removed myself from the bed and quickly brushed my teeth, so that I could leave and make the best out of my day.

Yet now as I come to the end... I sit here... Being tormented because I had found a tree to sit under and enjoy, rather to sit under and ask of the Lord to just let me disappear. How sad it is that even my freedom cost me much in the end.

I think that what is even more so troubling is my prayer to disappear, it is not to die, nor to have others around me to be judged for their sins against me. It is that I want to disappear, I want to vanish, to be found in another place with another life and nothing that I have now apart of it. I don't ask for death, I just ask for life, but not life as I knew it even before my tormenters arrived, yet a life that I had when it was just me, myself, and I.

I believe that I could shed these grave clothes if it was not for the fact that I have so many around me and yet NOT ONE OF THEM has offered or troubled themselves with the fact that I stand as Lazarus on the outside of a tomb. It saddens me deeply that they have to be told to remove my grave clothes.

I said to someone the other day.... I will eventually get past the fact that so many had so much evil to say against me, yet the thing that I will never forget is the fact that I had so many "friends" around me that never spoke for me, that never defended me, they just stood silent, as they begin to wrap me with these garments. It is their silence that is the greater sin against me.

Saturday, August 06, 2005

Who could blame me?

I worry... I shared with my friend my song that I have yet to sing for so many... It has been so many days and yet I have heard no reply. I promised him that I would understand if he said nothing. I would understand if the song fell again upon deaf ears. Now I am left to wonder, was it my song or has his own choir taken over his ears.

I said I would not sing it again, I said the last time that I was given the silence, that I would have rathered they told me to step away from the mic and let them that can at least bring us a sliver of hope (like the moon, even when it is but a sliver, we know that a greater vision will come)

I stopped taking my medicine, I said that when it became a need in my life, then I would no longer be controlled by it, it became a need. I will not allow myself to be leashed like a dog, being lead where it's master so desires. I refuse to stand before a people and say... "All ye that can hear my voice... Take thy refuge in God!" Only to be lead by this leash myself to find my refuge in the knowledge of man that comes so easily from not just my good Dr. but my wife as well. I wonder what it is that she does, when I am kissed by the kiss of sleep. Who might she dance with in the shadows of my house, who might she sit with and say to them, "My husband would love to have joined us, but, well.... well I found him sleeping again."

Did I scare thee oh friend? Did my distorted face frighten you when I lifted the mask? Was it the blood shot eyes or the un-kept beard that made you wonder, wonder if I could be trusted?

Your silence is like that of a burial cloth, it wraps around my mouth with it's fear. I cannot speak for one will say... "Why did you tell?" Look what you have done! I cannot speak of it, for my shame of telling has caused me a great amount of embarrassment before.

Just a single line, to bid me farewell is enough, I promise to not respond.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Why am I hurting

I am not sure why tonight I am experiencing such pain. It has been over a year sense my heart, mind and spirit were raped. I don't understand it... Why tonight? Why do I want to get in the corner and cover myself with a blanket and weep?

A year, over a year has gone by, and yes I have had my sorrows, but nothing like this. None have been so painful, none have been so dark, none have seemed so hopeless.

Tonight I can see their torches, as they entered my garden. Torches that were burning by the vile from their hearts. Torches that were not used to find, but used to burn. I was told... Patmos, pull your sword, defend yourself, fight for us!!! Yet I sat in the silence, as he approached and kissed me, the kiss of one in whom I was given the chance to kiss a thousand times, yet not even in the name of Christ, would I kiss him. I said, let us have mercy, let us again pour out the wine, let us again, pour the oil upon his heart. I mended him for this??? I mended him for that kiss? I thought I mended him, so that he might run, so that his wings would take him above the others.

I remember that night, they who loved me were a few feet from me. I remember that night, I cried in my pillow. I remember that night, I wept, I beat my fist into the air. I said from these ashes will I re-build, not that I might return, but that I might harbor them who are weeping, harbor them who are crying, harbor them who are dying.

Why tonight? Why am I hurting? Why tonight? Why do I feel like running? Why do I feel like leaving? Why do I feel like weeping?

It has been so long ago, it has been oh so long ago.

Then why do I feel the knife? Why do I feel their cut? Why do I feel the twist of that blade?

I remember that night. They did not kill in mercy, they killed in rage. They who were but a few feet from me, they said, that they would tarry, they said that they would fight. Yet when stones were cast, they could not last, they could not understand my response. I knelt in the sand and picked up their rocks, and there I begin to build, to build that bridge that would let others cross, to build that bridge so others could run. I now lift up my voice and I cry...... All you who are thirsty, All you who are weary, All you who are tired.... I have built you a bridge. I have built you a place. Come, come in and declare thy sanctuary.

Yet now I feel like the one who stands at it's door, not knowing the password, not knowing how to enter. I built this refuge for all who were weary, where did I put it's door?

Oh yes, I now remember, the door is at it's floor, I remember now, I made it for them who could not stand nor reach it's door. Lower I must go, lower I must go!! I had forgotten... Lower I must go!!