What is it all about?
As I write this, I am laying on my belly in my bed at a quarter after three in the morning. Why? Because I can’t sleep. When I got married, I knew my wife was a night owl, so it’s not too much of a surprise that, even though I’m somewhat sleepy, she’s not tired in the least. It doesn’t really bother me, since I know we’ll be working on getting to bed at reasonable hours when we go back to school in a few months.
We had been homeless for a while, until we came to where we’re living in Alabama right now, and even that was more of a temporary shelter than a home. Some friends of ours were going to sell us this single-wide, but with me on SSI and her unable to find work in this rural area, we really need to go back to school and try to at least finish Bachelor’s degrees.
I’ll say right off the bat that I may not ever write another posting of this blog, but I’ll sure try. You see, I’ve had trouble with that before, mostly because my blogs ended up as pretentious rambling about philosophy and things I liked to to think I knew something about. As it is, I’ve had trouble lately trying to reconcile the idea of a loving God with the concept that my life has been as hard as it’s felt.
Coming down with lupus just as I was starting to get my goals in life figured out, and just after I got engaged, was kind of tough to handle. Then, spending the next four and a half years in a forced separation from my fiancée, all the while trying desperately not to lose my mind to the demons playing around in there nearly destroyed me. After that, I went to California, dropped a hundred and forty pounds and nearly broke from the strain of a bunch of other stuff that happened there, and finally wound up homeless with my fiancée, who was my wife by that time. So here I am in Alabama, going back to Arkansas in a week and a half, living on $674 a month for the two of us.
Why would God allow this to happen? I don’t ask why God would do this to me, because I really don’t think that God makes bad stuff happen to us. He does allow it, which some people say is the same thing as doing it to us. God allowed me to get lupus, which is extremely rare in a man, much less a young, white man, but God did not give me lupus. I came to the realization about two weeks ago that my perspective, while getting better, was still dangerously awry, and if I had continued in my educational plan at that time, then I would have practically fled from God.
As it stands, I want to go back with something better in mind. I am going back with something better in mind. My stability may have been shot in fighting for my own sanity, but that’s because my stability was previously based on my own self. He allowed it to happen because my foundation was not on Him. He allowed me to be hurt because I hadn’t been asking Him to keep me from that kind of hurt. I didn’t even care.
I grew up with a very shallow faith, and I still have one. I had always heard that faith meant belief, plain and simple. That’s a flat-out inaccuracy. I won’t call it a lie, because that’s reserved for when the teller knows it’s false. Faith is more than just believing something when you have no other reason to believe it. We’re supposed to be able to give an answer for why we believe, but I’ve heard the answer, “I have faith,” as the answer.
Saying “I have faith,” as an answer to believe is the same as saying, “I believe because I believe, and I believe because I choose to believe.” I have never had a reason to believe in God except for not wanting to go to Hell, which makes no sense if you don’t know why you should believe God is real. Then, I saw some really freaky things that proved to me that there was a spiritual world, and that Hell was real. So therefore, since the world is not tearing itself apart, no matter how chaotic it may seem, there must be something better than Hell.
That’s where I was coming from a while ago, even before I went homeless. I lost just about everything before I came to that realization. It may be surprising to know that I saw those freaky events even before I lost my mind, and the knowledge that there was something more than this world kept me from taking myself out of it.
Some might ask why I’m talking about this for all to see on the Internet, but it’s something that I really believe I need to get out. The problem with all my other blogs was that I always felt that there was something I couldn’t talk about, and that the something was what was actually going on with me. Here, I’m just going to talk about what’s on my mind, like most people who do this sort of thing.
I won’t say I don’t have an agenda with this, however, since I do. As the name says, I’m hunting Heaven. I will continue to have faith in God, but I’m trying to make that more of a complete, healthy faith than just the kind that says, “I believe because I break down into a complete, incomprehensible wreck when I don’t.” Granted, it’s true, but I want it more than that.
Anyway. It’s almost four in the morning, and I need to get this finished so I can get some rest.
