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.

Sunday, September 18, 2005

I guess it is no big surprise

If you have been a reader of this blogg you have found that it would not take very much for me to just disappear, to vanish, to start walking in a different direction and never be found.

It has troubled me countless times and has been of a great burden upon my life. I guess the greatest burden is the fact that I am "A Man of God", if anyone should have the answer, if anyone should have the peace, if anyone should have the "joy" it is the Pastor.

So this last week I join the rest of my family at my grandmothers house for those... "Oh Lord it is a family reunion" events! :) I sat among family, some I have not seen in several years, some that I wish I had not seen in several years.

It was while sitting at the table eating dessert that two of my cousins began to talk about a great uncle, who come home from work and was asked by his wife to go and get some "smokes" for the domino game that was going to be played that night with family and friends.

My great uncle leaves the house and vanishes, for 20 years he was not seen nor heard from, then one day my grandfather went into a cafe and there sitting in the booth next to the wall, was his brother, my great uncle. They spoke for just a moment, then my great uncle leaves and is not seen again for another 15 years, it was after that last encounter that he was never seen again.

The amazing thing, is that I was named after him and my grandmother who was now sitting at the table said to me..... When you were a baby, you could have passed for an identical twin in the baby pictures. I said... No Way!! They got the photo albums and although I would not say identical twins, however we could have passed easily as brothers if not father & son.

The journey home was very difficult for me I must add, all I could think of was how so many times as the sun has settled and another day has come to an end, how I have laid in my bed and dreamed of waking up with no one or nothing but maybe a few dollars in cash and my good looks! Time and time again, I have planned my escape, I have planned how I was going to never be found again.

It troubles me... It makes me wonder could there be this calling that only certain ones hear in the night? The night which calls us to just become ghosts, a face in a photo album, a story being recalled over cheese cake and coffee. I will say this and my honesty might be refreshing, yet I cannot keep it unto myself...

I am jealous.

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