Getting past the Stuff!

In life, there is much "stuff" that comes up that we would either like to forget or not plague our remebrance. It is at the times when the "stuff" is newly introduced to our minds that makes it the most difficult to not dwell on, think about, or be in the forefront of our minds.

So how do we get past it??

How do we not remember the bad "stuff"?

Do we repress it and not deal with it?
Are we suppose to hit it head on and "deal with it"?
Do we cry out to God to take it from our memory? If He so chooses to, will it be by an aneurism that takes a larger toll on us than our memory?

Or, do we acknowledge it, deal with it when it comes up and ask God to help us and repress it the rest of the time?

Our minds are a tricky thing. I wish I had total control over mine. They do call the mind a battlefield. A place where we arque with ourselves, roll play, perform, see ourselves as who we want to be, feel justified, feel safe or feel lost, practice for real life, or spend time dwelling and re-filing all the "stuff" that has infiltrated our minds over our lifespan: Bombs bursting in air; chemicals mixing, dancing, fighting, creating, hiding, and struggling to either be seen or be forgotten. Do we ever get real control over our minds? Why do we make the choices that we do that can be so damaging, yet at other times make the wisest of the wise choices. Is it "the devil made me do it", a "moment of weakness", "a stupid thing to do" or some other influence that causes us to lose our minds at times?? What keeps our minds operating in a safe mode? Much like a computer, making the mind accessable to see and fix what's going on in there and make intelligent/wise decisions.


My mind, lately, has felt like it is swimming in a pool of memories that I had hoped were long forgotten or at least buried under enough other "stuff" that I either couldn't or wouldn't worry about them anymore. It has caused me to be sleepless and restless. I find myself "out there" a little too often and keep asking myself "isn't the good that has come out of the bad good enough to erase the bad?". The answer is that the good is great. But so far it hasn't erased the bad. Back to square one... how to I get paseed the "stuff" ?
Memories... whoa oa oh memories...


I long for good memories. The ones that are exciting, happy, full of joy, memorable, adventurous, good for everyone, and shareable. The ones that aren't born out of anger, spite, hurt, or perceived from an misconstrued frame of mind. Do we have to make it a point to make good memories for ourselves? Should we make more of an effort to do and say things that will be categorized in our minds as a "good memory" or "good stuff"? Or do we wait for them to happen, hoping for them to happen, all the while we silently sit back in stagnating thought about how we want good memories?

The Mind
A Battlefield
Memories
Choices
blah blah blah....
I can't make up my mind
I can't wrap my mind around it

"We should look to the mind, and not to the outward appearance."
-- Aesop.

"Man is made or unmade by himself; in the armory of thought, he forges the weapons by which he destroys himself. He also fashions the tools with which he builds for himself heavenly mansions of joy and strength and peace."
-- James Allen

"Thinking, after awhile, becomes the most pleasurable thing in the world."
-- Thomas Edison, inventor and businessman"What does a thought look like?
Just look around you, right
now ... to see yours."
-- Mike Dooley

"You either create or allow everything that happens to you."
-- Jack Canfield

"As a man thinks, so is he; as he continues to think, so he remains."
-- James Allen

"As individuals, we must think nobler thoughts. We must not encourage vile thoughts or low aspirations. We shall radiate them if we do. If we think noble thoughts, if we encourage and cherish noble aspirations, there will be that radiation when we meet people, especially when we associate with them."
-- David O. McKay

"It all matters: everything you see, hear, watch, say, and think. Therefore, be the gate-keeper of your mind and choose carefully what goes in."
-- Maurice Lavigne

"There is a vast difference between having a thought and thinking. All kinds of unwanted thoughts can knock at the door of our mind, but if we don't let them in, they leave us alone. But in thinking, we are imbuing a thought with life energy. We open wide the door and sit that thought down to dinner. When a thought of cynicism, resentment or vindication comes calling, what do you do? Do you bolt the door or do you lay out a smorgasbord? Just remember that the thoughts you entertain not only grow life in you, they become the life that you're living."
-- Mary Manin Morrissey

Here is my favorite!!
"Cause and effect is as absolute and undeviating in the hidden realm of thought as in the world of visible and material things. Mind is the master weaver, both of the interior garment of character and the outer garment of circumstance."
-- James Allen

The Ring... A Symbol? Just Jewelry?

I am moved to ask this because my wife and I have recently refurbished my wedding ring (which I hadn't taken off since the day we were married) and bought her a new ring and band and had the diamond from her original wedding ring put into it.

The whole process was difficult for me.

First of all, I had never taken my ring off. I have never been able to bring myself to do it and when the jeweler, who is also a very good friend of mine, asked to see it to retsore it, I almost broke into tears. He had to call me a couple of girly names to get me to take it off. Once I had taken it off, I felt bare, naked, and was afraid I would fall into singlehood at the first sight of an attractive woman. He asked me if I could pick it up next week... the look on my face must have said it all before the words came out of my mouth. "What will Karin think when I don't have my ring on, I've never had it off?! I can't wait a week!" He said he would check on something for me and walked out of sight. I immediately looked at my hand. It felt different, looked different, and the natural tendency of my thumb to adjust my ring felt the absence of my ring and that was even more weird. I took off the promise ring, from my other hand, that my wife gave me when we exchanged promise rings while still in high school, and put it onto my ring finger... ahhh that felt better.

As I stood there waiting for my good friend the jeweler to return, I began pondering why I had never taken off my wedding ring, what was keeping me from taking it off over the last 15 years? Fear that I would find it easier to take it off with each instance? Because I was setting an example to my wife? So that I could reinforce my dedication to my marriage by being able to say I had never taken off my wedding ring? Was it because I feared if I did that my marriage would fall apart? I was an emotional wreck while I waited for the return of my ring. What was it with my wedding ring? It doesn't have magical powers. Does it?

I began to think back at the day I watched my mother take her wedding ring from her second marriage and throw it into a lake. Yep, there goes a grand... plop. I have always remembered that day. I was twelve and I remember thinking how important that ring was to her when she wore it and how she struggled with throwing it into the lake. I was the child of 2 divorces and a child custody case that split my family apart. The ring was as much a symbol as it was sentimental to me. I vowed at the age of 12 that I would never go through divorce. That whomever I chose to marry, that it would be for life. That I would never, EVER, put any kids I might have into that kind of situation. To me, marriage was (and is) the ultimate bond that 2 people can have. My ring was and is the symbol of my bond to my wife, and a symbol to remind me of the vow I took when I was 12 years old.

Ahhh... my buddy was returning. He came up to me and lifted his hand up with a new ring in it. This new ring looked similar to my ring, except the brushings weren't rubbed off of the sides and the gold and diamonds sparkled like new. He said "What do you think?" I stumbled for words. Was he asking me if this is what my ring looked like 15 years ago, or how I want mine to be restored to? Was he trying to sell me a new ring, and if so...how could he? Or was this.... my ring? "Is this my ring?" I said in disbelief. "Yeah" he said.

I started crying right there at the counter and I could see I was making him a bit uncomfortable. After all, we only knew each other from our trips to ManLand and everyone knows that sensitivity doesn't exist in ManLand. This good friend was also my wife's next door neighbor as she grew up. They had known each other since they were about 2 years old and he and I had known each other since I started dating my wife, 20 years ago. My wife has a birthday in a couple of weeks and it was on her birthday that we met, 21 years ago. The history aside, I was visibly moved by what he had just done for me. In a way, it also symbolized the shape our marriage has taken in recent months. Refurbished, renewed, clean and shiny and sparkling again.

A few days later I came back, with my wife, and we brought the diamond from her original wedding ring. The diamond had fallen out about three years ago. If I had only recognized the symbolism of that back then. That story is for another day.

My wife and I met with our good friend and started looking at rings. An hour and a half later she had chosen a new ring to put her diamond into and a new band to accompany it. He took her diamond and finger size and said we could come back in a few days to pick it up.

Karin had bought a cheap band from somewhere to put on until we decided what we were going to do about her ring. I never knew it would take so long to get around to doing that. We went to dinner to eat and while there, our good friend the jeweler called and asked if I could come back for some paperwork that still needed to be taken care of. I dropped Karin off at home and went back to take care of the paper work. Again... he surprised me. He came walking up to the counter with Karin's ring sized and with the diamond mounted already. It had been less than 2 hours since we left! He bagged the ring up in a new ring case and gift bag and sent me on my way. I arrived home and presented my wife with her new ring in one hand and a hammer in the other. I had told her that when she got her new ring, that I wanted the old cheap band she bought and she said OK. While she took out her new ring, I headed for the garage to finish symbolizing our new or refurbished rings and marriage.

So, is your wedding ring a symbol, is it a remembrance of your dedication and vows, is it magical, or is it just a piece of jewelry? I treat mine like I treat my faith in God. It keeps me. It reminds me. I honor it, I cherish it, I protect it. I have seen too many treat it as jewelry.

Since taking my wedding ring off to be restored (which he did for me at no charge!!), I found that my marriage didn't fall apart, I didn't fall in love with the first attractive woman to walk across my path or become instantly single. I have realized, however, that by just wearing the ring, my marriage was not going to be automatically happy or filled with joy. It too needed refurbished and some things made new, just as our rings did.

I pray that the Lord keeps me a tender man, sensitive to the needs of my wife, and we continue in our new found love for each other.

Accountability... more than a word - Needs to be a Lifestyle

Accountability: the principle that individuals, organisations and the community are responsible for their actions and may be required to explain them to others.

Not having accountability is like not having a moral compass. It is free will without fear of recourse. It is anarchy and yet not viewed as such.

There are so many ways I could go here.

I'll write em as I think of em.

accountability in the work place
accountability in friendship
accountability in marriage
accountability in finances

Accountability speaks to the entire character of a person.

Nuff said.

Truth or Consequences

Those who have a hard time telling the truth, think they are doing others a service while feeding their own selfish ego -or- are simply deceptive in nature.


Tell the truth, or face the consequences.

What are the consequences? They are the results of the non-truths that lead to other non-truths to keep the original non-truths from being revealed; because that would be pretty embarrasing and would not feed ones own narcissism or deceptive nature. The consequences of not being able to tell the truth, of being transparent with your closest friends or family, can be simple deception (of which your conscience will slowly be eaten away at) or they can be dire. You risk your own character when you cover the truth, even if it is a white lie, "They'll never know the difference" or "What they don't know won't hurt them". What do you have to lose with being transparent or honest?

I recognize that not all situations are the same. In a corporate or small office environment, it would probably warrant a more guarded version of being totally transparent. Offer it if it is asked, or tell it like it is. Keeping your inner being guarded from the talons of the unscrupoulous.

Within your "safe" zones (those of your close friends, family, significant other) it is of the utmost importance to make sure you have established the "safe" zone with whom you are sharing it with. I am not saying be honest only if those around you are going to be honest, i am saying to be honest in letting those know you are around of your character and what you expect. Keep yourself and those you share with accountable. Trust is a sticky thing. People can forge "trust" with another that is birthed out of deception. Is that really trust? or is it a byproduct of a flaw in ones character to seek trust while deceiving another? Trust is usually mutually expected. In general, most people have a higher expectation of others than for themselves when trust is the issue. I have found great strength, and even power, in keeping trust sacred.

If you have been following my blog, you've noticed some common threads. Yes, I have had some recent events that have caused me to start writing again. These events were spawned out of betrayal to friendship, trust, and respect. Trust and respect are two things almost everyone wants and demands out of anyone they call a friend. I was thoroughly betrayed by someone who called me friend. They showed me the ultimate in disrespect, all the while saying they were protecting me. Protecting me from what? From the truth? there lays the rub. Lie to protect from the truth. Lie to get what one wants. It is either for protection, for selfishness, or for power that one chooses to not tell the truth.

Consequences. In my case, consequences have been dire for all involved. A jar to the system. So far, I don't know of anyone I have ever allowed to befriend me, that has caused so much damage to so many people over such a long period of time as the individual I am speaking of. All the while crying "weakness" & "addiction". Anyone who has ever overcome an addiction, and any addict will tell you this, never did it by themselves or by not being held accountable. You are now being held accountable by all who know you. Others involved are now being held accountable.

Accountablility... there is one for another day.

Mortal Enemy.... as a Super Hero, I must have one!

There was a recent Time article, that my wife brought to my attention, that addressed this very thing!

It made me think about my own "Super-Hero"ness, and it affects my blog. To fully understand, you have to read the article. Here is another direct link to it on Time's website.

I must confess I do have a "mortal enemy", (in the context of me being a super-hero, which I am.) I doubt that who/what I consider to me to be my Mortal Enemy, would in return, consider me their mortal enemy. My mortal enemy is a form small mindedness that causes the most knowledgable of minds to be very narrow in scope. That sees no fault in oneself, rather sees influences that cause oneself to sway one way or the other. These influences are moments of strengths or weaknesses, rather than choices made by an intelligent mind.

To True Friends... There are no Better Ones!

Three weeks ago I had Breakfast with a friend.

This week I had lunch with another friend.

Last night my wife and I had the pleasure of spending the evening with another couple and having dinner.

Today, to spend some time with another while our kids played together.


There are things common I have with each. There is a mutual bond expressed by each as well.


The bonds that tie... I am so appreciative for true friends. My heart is filled with joy for the thought of them. Some I can share the world with, others, I can share time with. To all, I have shared myself with.


True friends are friends that are a gamble to extend yourself to. They have chosen to gamble their intimacy, likewise, on me as well.

Regardless of the circumstance(s).
A True Friend, is just that... True.


What does being true mean:

consistent with fact or reality; not false; "the story is true"; "it is undesirable to believe a proposition when there is no ground whatever for supposing it true"- B. Russell; "the true meaning of the statement"

I must recognize that we all make mistakes. We are all, of course, human.

I must also recognize, that if I betray the friendship I have developed, that I am gambling the friendship and could lose it all. Any intelligent individual can acknowledge this and most likely accept it as being wisdom. I would rather have one true friend, than 100 that would betray me and tell me they were protecting me; all the while plotting and gambling the very friendship they thought they were protecting.

A friendship is a pact. A silent oath that says, "You are my friend, I can come to you, you can come to me. We can trust each other."



The pain, the remorse, the anxiety, the anger, the sadness, the rage, the fear, the repulsiveness, the betrayal. All at the hand of someone gambling, deceiving, conniving, .... what for?

For self? Why ever choose to gamble a true friend? Why ever choose to betray a friendship? ...

The reasons? The Justifications?
They are of very little consequence. They do nothing to heal the wounds. They are but mere words that carry no healing in their breath, unless they are of truth. If they are of truth, there is no poison in them. If they are of self, they carry poison and a stench that lingers when they are in your presence.

True Friends... There no better ones. They love, respect, entreat, chastise, comfort, encourage, protect, and will do nothing to betray that. They may hurt you with their words. They may do things we don't like. They may even hurt us with their actions. But they never betray the friendship. Why? They are True. They give of themselves, rather than looking to get of another. They bring as good as they get. They give and expect nothing.

True Friends. That is who I spent my time with this week.

I pray I never betray a single friend and that I am worthy of their respect and the friendship they return.

To my best friend: I forgive, I love, I comfort, I forget.
To my true friends: I forgive, I love, I comfort, I forget.

My heart beats for reconciliation. My blood carries forgiveness and desires to be spilled to cover transgression. My blood is of the throne of God, and I must forgive when asked for forgiveness, When true repentance I am faced with, When the guise of masked loyalty is removed and the heart of another I am faced with, I will be as I only can be. True. That is the Spirit that is in me.


Don't cry "weakness" to me. Don't cry "foolishness" to me. Cry TRUTH... it will set you free.

Unconditional Love.... Bam!

Have you ever wondered what their marriage would have been like had they gotten married?

She had the Lasso of truth, he had the x-ray vision, she had the breasts that were cupped just right by her super-hero costume, he had a cape, she had stars on her high cut panties, he just wore his over his tights.

She had titanium wrist bands (handcuffs if you will) and he was as fast as a speeding bullet and stronger than a locomotive... between the x-ray vision and the fact he was as fast as a speeding bullet, I'm sure there wasn't much foreplay and sex couldn't have lasted very long... it' no wonder she was in good shape, she has to be to keep from having her vagina from being ripped apart during sex.

What does this have to do with unconditional love?

Good question, I suppose I wanted to entertain the ideas of SuperMan and WonderWoman being married along with the theme of unconditional love in a marriage and explore those two together to see where this would lead me.

First of all, WonderWoman would never had gotten a headache, unless it was from that damn golden crown she wore, when it came to having sex with SuperMan. She would have just put on some kind of perfume or jewelry that was laced with kryptonite. He would have been powerless and would have lost any erection he had and rolled over and gone to sleep. On the other hand, that would have only worked in close proximity, and after all SuperMan is faster than a speeding bullet. He could have been in and out and WonderWoman would have never known. I khope I'm not recking your image of the two. Just being real.


In addition, SuperMan would have to act with extreme caution when it came time for intimacy with his wife, WonderWoman, or if he were having a sexual dream which would have caused his "supermanhood" to wake up and come to life. Could you imagine, as a woman, spooning with your husband and suddenly having a stainless steele cylinder exploding into your inner most parts from between your legs while you are sleeping? Worst yet, exploding into your ass? Perhaps he wore a chastity belt laced with a minute amount of kryptonite, to keep his supermanhood in check. After all, it would be like swinging a steele bat. Whoaa... look out!


Not only is this all hypothetical, it probably shows a disturbing side of me, but oh well, I am only being real. The fact is, they are both Super Heroes, and probably weren't just super horny. They would have been true to themselves and to the Justice League. They would have loved each other unconditionally, without fear of the others strengths, and without exposing the others weakness's. This I suppose would be the ideal marriage. To be a super hero, be married to a super hero, and to love each other unconditionally.

Then there are their secret identities.
Clark Kent/ Diana Prince.

Even though no one else knew who they were, they knew who each other really was, and yet they had to pan and play to each other and to those to whom they were portraying themselves to be with all those who knew them as their secret identity. They would have had to have had the ultimate trust in each other. The kind of trust that was inate, that was part of their moral SuperHero fiber. It would have had to have been unconditional.

If I were SuperMan, and I'm not... really... I would would write a love letter a little like this:

I love you unconditionally.... almost! The only condition I have for our marriage, is that you love me unconditionally, knowing that the only condition you put on my love is that it is returned to you unconditionally.

In other words, our love can only be based on trust, honesty, and transparency. If any of these ever come into question, we have to both acknowledge that at any time we each reserve the right to come to each other and question the other... out of love and compassion.

When I asked you to marry me... I meant it for life. So, no matter what happens in our marriage... for life is the goal. For me, my vows are for life, my love is for life, and it is all unconditional. For me, it is not a burden to love you.

I would imagine that Wonder Woman's response would be something llike this:

This love letter is THE BEST thing that I have EVER read.

I relate this in my own life to my six year old son. He is my blood, I love, nurture, and care for him unconditionally. I have no choice to decide I will one day not love him. It as much a truth to love him as it is to breathe air and have blood flow through my veins. Such is the love I strive to have in my own marriage.

To not have unconditional love in a marriage, would allow for too many options, thoughts, and unwise decisions in a marriage. It would be no different than SuperMan to bitch slap WonderWoman in the back of the head. All though, that would be an interesting thing to watch, in a kinky kind of way.

I really to want to be a SuperHero! I dig the costumes.

Fending off Evil....

Have you ever done something stupid? I have. Yesterday, in fact.

It was one of those things that seemed innocent enough, but at the same time, was just plain stupid.

The desire to feel justified in what I did was the motivation behind how I could do it. But I have been writing about being compassionate, being real, being transparent, being open and honest... and yet... something stupid did I. Don't worry, I'm not talking about stealing, robbing, killing or being unfaithful. It was one of those little things that didn't speak very well of my character.

The thing that bothers me, is that I allowed myself to justify what I did. Though my actions were something probably not perceived as being important to anyone else and I would probably have received justifying support by any of my buddies, if I chose to let anyone know (which I'm not), it just didn't sit right with me. I am a man of conviction and a strong moral fibre.

It is those little things that we justify as being "ok" that lead to thinking that things that are a little bigger are "ok" as well. That makes it easier to say the big things, that aren't ok to say ok to, are "ok", because, after all, the little things were "ok" and this is just an extension of those things. The Trap of Evil is slow and progressive. Satan will draw you in my any means possible.

In fending off evil, I am recognizing that the small things I do: i.e. simple lies to protect someones emotions or my own, can lead down a trail of deceit.

In discovering myself, I am finding that to be real, be raw, be open, will continually bring me to points of having to make decisions that will impact the building of my character and will either strengthen or weaken my moral fibre.

In this I pray:
"Rescue me, O LORD, from evil men; protect me from men of violence, who devise evil plans in their hearts and stir up war every day. They make their tongues as sharp as a serpent's; the poison of vipers is on their lips. Keep me, O LORD, from the hands of the wicked; protect me from men of violence who plan to trip my feet." Psalm 140:1-4

Not Giving In to Hate.... but I want to.

I was having a really good day today, and for the most part did. At the last part of the day, I remembered something I had been trying to remember for several weeks, but because of recent events in my life, I wasn't able to bring it to my remembrance. But now, here it is. Crap. What a lousy end to an otherwise good day, and good days have been far in between lately. I know, I know, ... the details. I would love to give them, but I can't. If I did, then I would be doing the opposite of what the title of the particular blog states and I do not want to give in to it.

Wait... I actually do want to give into it. I want so much to. I want to go apeshit for the lack of a better adjective. I frickin (christian cussword) hate the fact that I was naive. That I was betrayed. That I allowed myself to be betrayed. *@*!&@^^&!*

Sorry about the rant.

Ok, I actually feel better getting that out. Things that are seen in hindsight make for a better roadmap than things seen through dim headlighs on a foggy night. I hate fog. I hate metaphors.

Can you tell I am having a moment? I hate having moments.

(10 deep slow breaths) ok. I am choosing. I am getting backon the "Moving Forward" Train.

The thing I was trying to remember triggered other answers to other questions once I remembered what it was I was trying to remember in the first place. Someday I will write a book about all of this, when I have reached the other side and I can put it all behind me. I'll call it "Anger to Compassion: Understanding Betrayal". First, I have to make sense of it all.

Making sense out of having your trust in someone deminished is a task I would never wish upon my worst enemy. It is a roller coaster of emotion that cannot be easily explained. I feel like I sometimes am reliving the same experience because the emotional roller coaster just took me on an unexpected 360 loop and twirl. Ever ridden the BatMan at Six Flags? Today suddenly took me for a ride at the last moment.

Be careful where your trust lies and with whom.

Proverbs 3:5,6 - Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.

Fresh Rain.... Fresh Air.... Fresh Start

Today is Monday September 11, 2006

(This is not a Post September 11, 2000 entry)

I am looking out of my 24" x 18" window in my office. The only window by the way, and it is at ground level. My office is in a lower level. As i am peering out, in my wet shorts and underwear from taking my son Zack to school in the torrential downpour this morning, I am looking at the beauty of the post rainfall. The droplets of water hanging on the 20' Blue Spruce, which partially blocks my view of the sky, are slowly dripping from branch, to branch. I had to step back outside to admire the power of the fresh rain. The air smells so fresh after a cooling downpour. The temperature is about 68 degrees. The air feels so good breathing in deep fresh smells. It is invigorating.

That makes me think about recent events in my life that caused this blog to come into existence. The blog was originally entitled "angertocompassion", but the compassion side of me was too strong to keep that bog address. Anyway, as I am pondering the last three weeks and a day in my life. I am feeling freshly watered and enjoying the cool breeze. I feel like it is the first time I have experienced a rainfall upon my face... like taking a much needed shower after the most grueling rugby game.

I am choosing compassion and love and it has enabled me to make a fresh start. I feel cleansed, washed, and renewed. I am seeing more clearly than ever, and feel like I am being seen as the man that has always wanted to step forth.

There are things in life I have chosen to ignore or look past. Some of them needed to be ignored and looked past. Others needed my attention and will continue to need it. The purpose of this blog was for me to vent and hopefully discover who I am. Thus the paradox. I am who you perceive me to be by what I show you. By what I demonstrate to you. If I demonstrate love and compassion, then you perceive me to be loving and compassionate. If I demonstrate frustration or anger to you, then you perceive me to be a frustrated and angry person.

Who I choose to be has as much of an impact on how you perceive me, as do your preconceived ideas of who I am. Who I am 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 12 months a year may be entirely different than the way you preconceived or perceived me to be: by either your meeting me, or knowing me by my writings. The me that exists every second of every day, must be real and must be true.

As I step onto the wet, thick grass: my carpet of life, I am dedicating my life to being real, being true. Not just true to myself, but true to those who know me. I have keen discernment of those around me. Having come from a childhood filled with deceit and deception, from being a part of it, from exploring the dark side of life in ways many never have, I can discern the intent of most people. In the past, if I discerned something I didn't like, or if I had a hard time accepting what it was I discerned, then I simply withdrew myself from that person. That however, wasn't being real or true to that person or situation. (I want to enjoy the thick grass between my toes, without wondering if I will step onto a sharp object). If I do happen step on another sharp object, I wont simply make a mental note of it's location. I WILL remove it. I will address it's very presence and how it came to be. Consider it tending a garden. Except this is my chosen path in life, my road that I want to be filled with carpets of grass that are soft and at times wet (how else will you keep your feet clean?).

A Fresh Start.
It's not too many times in life when a person is able to experience that.
I am blessed that I can.
I am a blessed man of God.

Compassion for the Packers? .... NEVER!

DA BEARS.....
I am.
I am male.
I am Bears fan.


I am preparing myself for the start of the Bears vs the Packers at Lambeau field today. I respect Brett Farve and his talent. I am a product of being a life long Bears fan. No compassion for the Packers.

Kickoff begins in 5 minutes.





Bears up 16-0 at Half-time.

Bears win 26-0.
Da Bears!

Train "Moving Forward" has Departed

There are many times in our lives when we feel like we have derailed. I believe that any Christ filled life will have it's share of tribulations. I also believe, that our lives are watched over and we are continually pointed in a better direction.

It is how we choose to react or accept those nudgings that focus the direction our lives take. We can either move backward, remain stagnate, or move forward. Recent events in my life have poised me for either a reactionor a change in direction in my life. The most difficult decision of my life has come. I know I have "chosen wisely". I can say that years of hardness have melted away, by God's grace, and I am a new man. For anyone who knew me growing up, I would rather deliver a pounding, unremorsefully, than admit to a weakness in my life. I have been un-tender (sugar- coated) at times and even in the face of being confronted by the one I love the most. I think it was the metaphor, "the pot calling the kettle black" that added to my IMS (Irritable Male Syndrome). My times of un-tenderness have never been concealed, they were always in your face. The "pot" was better at concealing their un-tenderness, whereas the "kettle" (me) just spouted regardless of other kitchen pots and pans (continuing the metaphor...).

Have you ever wanted to be better than the person you are/were?
Sometimes it takes a catechlismic event to shake off the old exterior ... shedding an old snakeskin if you will.

"Moving Forward" is a motto recently adopted for my life. I have stood still and by for too long. I have put on the conductor cap and have put the "Moving Forward" train in motion. It only has one direction... and that is Forward.

Feeling Anger.... Having Hope... Moving Forward

Anger and confusion.... there is a lot of that going on in my inner circle.

Hope and Compassion.... They are what drive me, I cannot be any other way.

Moving Forward.... That is the Grace that hovers over me.

I write this after a reading a blog belonging to someone I know.
I have anger, confusion, hope and compassion for this person.
More importantly, I have love and prayer for this person.

I pray in all of this, that I change the most.
May Tenderness be my portion, may it be my gift.

I Migrated to Beta Blogger....

If your comments aren't seen that's because I had to copy and paste the blog entries....

Feel free to re-comment.

The Airport, Andre Agassi, and Me

As I am sitting here in the one of 3 airports I'll be in today, I am watching Andre Agassi struggle in the 3rd set against Benny Becker. The airport carries a different dynamic of people and people watching. I have this accute sense of being watched and yet watching those around me as well. Earlier, a guy of my height and a slimmer build, with a very european looking mustache and a shiny head like my own came and sat in the midst of myself and the other three gents I am traveling with. He was dressed in an Hawiian shirt that was black toned and had yellow and orange flowers on it. He wore a very nice watch that looked sleek silver and gold. His pants were a nice dress pants accompanied by dark shiny black shoes and black socks. No carryon luggage was with him,just a cell phone. He sat down while I was rummaging through my back, I still had my sunglasses on from the last four days of rum city. Coming back from rum city always seems to make going home much brighter than it was before... rum city always has this affect on me. Anyway, he was wearing a slim and expensive looking pair of sunglasses and I kept feeling glancing looks from him. My cell phone rang, it was my babe calling me... I took the call and turned slightly as to not let him see my lips: in case he was a lip reader... you just never know. I spoke on the phone for about 5 minutes and hung up. I turned back square in my seat and he was watching me... so I gave him a smile that acknowledged he had been seen and said I would rather he not look at me. He was stoic in his ability to sit amongst strangers, especially when there were many open seats around us.

"I think he is undercover" I told myself. I asked one of the gents I was with to watch my stuff as I went to find a bottle of water and a magazine.

I returned 5 minutes later and he was still there. No friends, no luggage. Is he looking for casual conversation? ...his phone rang. "Hey Buddy..." he said with a slightly New York or Boston accent. "Hows it going?..." he talked about his flight getting ready to board, maybe he wasn't undercover, maybe he was really just looking for some fellas to shoot the breeze with. He finished his conversation and then went to board his flight, going to Ontario, Canada by the way.

As he got up and walked away,I thought to myself, "I like his wardrobe and his look... I need to note that look as a possible look for myself the next time I travel." Which reminds me that a couple asked me if I was undercover yesterday. Here is a little background to why they asked: When we were going through customs a couple of days ago on our way to Nassau, Bahamas, we encountered a very nice gentleman from New Jersey working the customs desk we were asked to go to. His name was Jerry, and he was a kind gent, about 60-65 probably worked this as a part-time job to accompany his retirement. He answered every question we asked with specific detail and was not at all inpatient with us. I said, "Thank you very much Jerry" and we went on our way to board the boat.

When we arrived back in port, Jerry was there to usher us in the right direction to our luggage. As I passed him, I casually said, "Morning Jerry",as if I have worked with and known him for many years. The couple right next to me turned to me with smiles and said, "You know him that well to say his name like that? Are you undercover?" I smiled, and said "No,...I just remember him for his kindness the other day when we were boarding." "Right...right..." they said with a sarcastic smirk. Oh well,I enjoyed thinking of myself as an uncercover agent.

Agassi has lost the 3rd set...itis not boding well for him at this point. I admire him for his sensetive side and for his competetiveness. Not to mention his tenacity.

Then there is me.

I miss my wife and son so much. We tried to change our tickets to arive home yesterday, but it was going to cost me over $1000 to upgrade everyones tickets. It was the longest night and has been the longest day I can remember having since I was anticipating Santa Clause coming when I was a kid. I have watched maybe an hour of tv in 5 days and I have enjoyed meeting new people and getting to know people.

We went to smoke the Cuban Cigars I had purchased earlier in the day. While smoking our cigars, we met a man from Manhattan, NY. He is a New York City police officer with 14 years on the force and 6 more to go till retirement. His name was Earl and we exchanged conversation with him for about 20 minutes.

I just want to be at home.... Agassi, ust lost the match... Happy Retirement Andre!

The Bahamas....

Well, I am sitting in a luxurious resort called The Breezes, in Nassau, Bahamas. We arrived this morning and have been taking in the sites. We snorkled this morning over one of the largest living reefs here. What a blast.

I am on a semi business trip with two associates and my cousin. Yes, we are having fun. Yes, it has been a fun time. No, I am not enjoying myself completely. If can't enjoy the best things in life with the ones you love the most, then they are just incomplete attempts at having the best time possible...

To My Babe: I love you, I miss you, I look forward to coming home soon.

To My Boy - Zack: I Love you Big Guy!!

Kev/Dad

The Calm after the Storm

I have had a week directly from a mix of a Sienfeld/Friends episode. However, this version was not made for tv. My version is a cynical view of how the group of friends in each instance really interacted with each other. A multiple part series if you will of all of the behind the scenes relationships and motivations of how the actors derived their inspiration for the characters they portrayed.

Never have I experienced a full realm of emotions. From the most reserved I have ever been, to the most angry, and the most compassionate. The storms were surely raging in my life. But as one woman prophecied to my wife and I some 10 years ago, they have been raging and were almost over. I can say we have floated to the top of the rising waters and crashing waves and we cannot only see each other, we can feel, taste, smell each other, and see in each others' eyes that we once again long to know the other person. We entered this storm together and by the Grace of God even though we lost the grip of the other, we still found ourselves surfacing from the deep, together, to once again embrace each other and find comfort in the warmth and feeling of the other person so close. Knowing that we were fortunate that neither totally gave up and that although we were in the storm, God's Grace remained with us. The waves came to destroy, and some we tried to ride to another destiny not knowing where the other of us was in the storm, but the waves threw us back together causing us to know that even though we may have lost hope, that by the "Grace of God go I".

The calm has come, and we are tired, relieved, and sharing with each other our experience of the storm when we thought the other was lost to it. We are seeing the blue skies and feeling the warmth upon our faces, of the sun. We felt that at any moment, it could have all been over for either of us, but now we bask in the calm of the storm that brings a refreshing smell in the air and cool breeze that is just the right temperature and speed.

I am accutley aware that every marriage has its storms. Even the mildest of storms can bring death. But it is only by God's Grace that a marriage survives the test of time and the fronts of an unpredicted storm. Sometimes the storms come without warning, at other times the storms have been brewing and telling of their coming destruction, and at other times, these storms are needed to bring the refreshing rain and cleansing power they hold.

Katrina was totally destuctive. It was filled with unimaginable fury. The aftermath is still being cleaned up.

I ponder all of this as Ernesto is set to enter Florida over night. We are aware of the storm and yet we do not know it's potential.
My prayer is that wisdom prevails upon those attempting to ride out the storm. The storm will surely bring death, destruction, and chaos. It will also cause life to grow where it has not grown before and cause buildings to be renewed that are built better and stronger and will be better equipped for another day.

It is this calm after the storm that I find myself in. And though there is destruction around me, I am a Blessed man of God.

So, you still want to be my friend?

The title reflects a recent question I posed to someone who thought he was being my friend. To many of you, you know of whom I speak and I don't doubt you have asked similar questions. Friendship, true friendship, is the most important thing in a person’s character; just after truth, honesty, integrity, and compassion. Without these five characteristics being part of a person’s entire makeup of character, their ability to be a true friend is greatly diminished and could at best be accepted as a person with good intentions. Actions will always speak louder than words. Actions are the direct result of who we are and we can best demonstrate who we are by keeping our mouths shut and letting our actions show our intentions.


Here is a scenario: No Need
You are on an island with 9 other people, you all have everything you need to make you happy, you don't need the cooperation or the help from any of the 9 other people.


Each of you speaks a different language with no common linguistic characteristics or signs. If they or you desire the company of the other, you will have to demonstrate your willingness to want to be a friend.

Then through the intimacy of learning about the other, can you develop your own understanding of each other. There is no reason to want anything other than friendship from the other.




Here is a second scenario: They have what I want/need
You are on an island with 9 other people, you all see things you need and want in the 9 others to make you happy.

Each of you speaks a different language with no common linguistic characteristics or signs. If they or you desire the company of the other, you will have to demonstrate your willingness to want to be a friend.

Then through the intimacy of learning about the other, can you develop your own understanding of each other. How do you determine that the intensions are true?

One of the others of the group befriends you. Shares with you some of the most intimate items he has. You develop a trust with him; all the while he is stealing, talking about, and lying to the others he has befriended. But he tells you he is not doing those things with you. In fact, he says he needs you to help him remain accountable for not doing those things to anyone else.

What do you do? (for the sake of this scenario, you choose to help...)

You put yourself on the line for wanting to be an example, an ensample, a hope that you can be. He tells you that you are making a difference. Then one of the other nine comes to you and tells you something he has recently done. Now you are invested and feel more compelled to help, you also feel that your belongings may be at risk because of his behavior. You try to protect your belongings, but leave them visible as not to show any lack of trust.

And then... you are just another victim in a long line of victims.
-------------------------

So you confront, you are totally, brutally honest with this person as to what they have done, who they have done it to, how it makes you feel, what it is perceived as. And they lie to you about how they don't care.

A few moments later, they tell you they do not want your friendship to end. Your response?

Mine was to say, "Are you serious?". The answer, "yes I am.". My response, "then don't tell me you don't care, don't continue to lie to manipulate". "You're right, I do care." I was stunned and had to pause while silence filled the phone. This person had made plans to take my most precious possession, had been working behind he scenes to figure out if it could work, would it be worth it, would anyone who would know tell me. And he only tells me he is sorry after I have confronted him and then confronted the new lies he had just told me. Hardly heart felt.

So, you still want to be my friend? Wow... how deceived and naive this person is to think anything less than a true heartfelt apology should have been the first thing delivered when given the opportunity.


So, you still want to be my friend? Well, you go live on your part of the island, leave everyone and their possessions alone. Live a life that is true, honest, open, transparent, and filled with integrity and then, maybe, you will become a friend again. Though I forgive, I will not be ignorant of your ways.

(EDITED)

I still want to be a Hero

I have found that by writing, it has become very therapuetic for me. When I was in gradeschool I was always in the creative writing classes if they had them. I liked science fiction and fast action. I think in some respects I moved away from writing because of poor grammar skills and I was intimidated by the highly developed skills of my wife ( I am only a few sentences in and my wife is pointing out I still have poor grammar skills).

I first started getting enjoyment from writing when I was in the 5th grade. We had creative writing hour once a week and I so enjoyed that hour of the week. ...5th Grade, the year was 1980, I was 11 years old and my childhood was, well, bad. I leaned towards anythng that allowed for escapism... unfortunately, this pattern of escaping is something that will not be broken in my life until 2006. Anyway, back to writing. Some people wrote their stories about the flowers in the grass, the color of the grass, and then there was Terry James, he would write about the benefits of smoking grass. Some of these writings were a few paragraphs, mine were usualy a few pages and people always seemed to be anticipating my next 2 or 3 page creative story. Usually they were short stories about some kind of heroism. You know, a kid detective busts some adult group or gimpy, spineless individual, he has a fast, bright red spots car (it was always a t-top).

When we got to 6th grade, at Washington Monroe, a friend of mine, Craig Strampp, and I asked if we could write our short stories together. If I wrote 2 or 3 pages and he wrote 2 or 3 pages, then we could lengthen the story. Our 6th grade teacher was Lenny Janet ( professional name Leanord) and he was the most influential person in my character developing as a pre and early teen. He agreed we could write our stories together.
Craig and I decided we would take turns starting the story and the other would finish it. We always made our villian the notorious Mr. Janet. A fiendish individual who was always plotting some bad caper. We were the t-top driving, beach boy detectives who were always being called into action because he had been spotted somewhere again.

In 7th grade, I added my creative writing skills to our Jr. High paper, the... dang, the name slips me at the moment.. I'll remember. In 8th grade, I was the editor of our Jr. High newsletter. My freshman year I started in a new town with new people and I never picked writing back up... unless it was a hap-hazard attempt to write a research paper or something that was emotionless in nature.

There were a few writing excersices I did when I was trying to attend Bible school... but 'things' in general in my life were never condusive to writing.. or so I thought. Isn't everything worth writing about? I venture that I am glad to be doing it again, but fear it could only be a short lived fad or a new form of escapism... I don't really know. But I am going to continue to try and write and hopefully get better at grammar... my wife has promised to help me in that area. She is the best darn wife ever!!

[This week a special thank you goes out to a very good friend. He is true in nature, kind at heart, and has the compassion of a skilled physician. I really think he is a super hero and we only know him by his mild mannered secret identity. If I am correct, I don't want to reveal his super heroism by revealing this very good friend's name. He knows who he is, I enjoyed one of the best darn breakfast's with him the other morning... Part Store, Part Restaurant, All Country.]

Compassion Enables Me!

Today is a new day. I must live in the now and concern myself with tomorrow at the same time. Because what I do today will affect the way I live tomorrow.

In life

I strive to be a man

enabled with strength

endured with power

bridling life

loving my wife

broken, bent, and twisted I feel

longing for another day

looking, wanting, peace within

not knowing what or how to say

knowing that I now can heal

melting the hardness away

winds of change have come

the force is strong and violent

yearning to be more than one

I look deep within and cannot be silent

SO COME ALL YE WINDS AND RAIN

LET NOT MY HEART BE STRAINED

I WILL FIGHT AGAINST ALL THAT COMES

YOU WILL NOT SEE ONE WHO RUNS

BOLDNESS AND TRUTH ARE MY PAIN

I AM NOT A SEEKER OF FAME

BUT IF I COME FAMOUS DUE TO YOU

Then suceedeth I have

Through and through.

Measure me now gates of hell

I will not be as one who fell

If I stumble or fumble or slip

To the throne of humbleness I will grip

Realizing we are only human...

I don’t want to be another broken, bleeding heart. But... I am. I struggle for the words and the true inner most feelings of my own humanness. I am a man that has withstood the hardest thing a man can stand and I have not won. Yet, I have overcome. I have been strong, yet I have been the weakest I have ever been. I have been bold, yet the meekest I have ever been. I have been inpatient, yet longsuffering. I am a broken man… and that is a good thing. I may not like the circumstances I have gone through. In fact, I hate them with a passion. But they have caused me to become more than I thought was possible. Not because I thought it was impossible to become the man that I am now. Rather, I didn’t think I could get beyond my pride and the stubbornness I have always been told I have and didn’t want to admit to. I have learned the trueness of God’s Grace and the fragileness of being human. I have compassion beyond measure and it is not of myself. Myself is full of the stuff we as men like not to admit to anyone, except those that have the same stuff. And sometimes it only comes out in small trickling amounts as we feel more safe with,and yet get more stupid with an individual. I am looking inner to the true me and when I look in the mirror, I have now actually seen me. The overcoming me. Not the inpatient, abrupt, careless, insensitive, hard core, furrow browed, seething with pain from unseen open sores, ass that I was.

I want anyone who sees me to see this me. The humbled, wiser, more tender, more accepting, more human, more compassionate, less hating, more communicative man that has come from the deep woods furowed deep in my mind where he was lurking from a distance wondering if he was destined to forever remain there, or to be just plain destitute. The woods were a dark, lonely place that made your mind slowly numb and listless. There wasn’t much of a place there to make a home in. That place didn’t allow for homebuilding. It allowed you stand there with little room for motion, but enough room to go further into them. The further into the woods you went, the more the woods would take of you. It is an unforgiving place that only allows for people to escape to. There is no remorse, no healing, and absolutely no forgiveness in the woods, just fear. Fear that is full of dark and silent lonliness.

I guess, even though I consider myself to be a disciple of Christ’s teachings and that I have been empowered by the Holy Spirit to be a conqeurer, I am only as strong as His Grace allows and I am also as weak as my human shell… I have realized that I too am human, and… that those who are around me are human too. I will end with this quote:

To err is human, to forgive divine.

Alexander Pope, An Essay on Criticism

Kevin D. Franz 8/24/2006