Breakfast Without You

Being disabled is very lonely indeed but I must make the best of it, so today I...

Well that didn't work out, so I...

That neither...

So when I realized that Joe had hidden the steel-cut oats...
And the pan to cook them in was gone...

I looked into the refrigerator much farther than I, as a male, would ever prefer look!

 
I was left with only one choice: Cook for myself!

 
So I made a chorizo omelet (with chorizo left over from last week) with two Eggland's Best super large eggs (on sale on my birthday), shredded mozzarella cheese, and a secret blend of spices all sautéed to a delightfully sunny-golden brown.

 
This I carefully folded and centered on a large and colorful yet badly chipped plate and tucked in some Greek sour cream, sprinkled with a bit of garlic powder. Pal (my dog) admired my handiwork and later received a tiny portion then came back twice to lick the plate until all that it needed was a very slight rinse.

 
Then I wondered if I could change the world with just one blog post that encouraged all of you to never give up on your dreams.

 
Did it work yet?

Then I came up with a catchy phrase to celebrate all our future endeavors: Remember: Our past failures are never a reliable indicator of our future successes.

Well my eyes are giving way and I realize that I have many hours yet to go before my wife comes home. Due to my stroke, this e-mail took me nearly three hours to write and try to edit. I said, try to edit!!!!

 
It's almost lunchtime and I can't drive yet so it's time for a look in the old refrigerator again!

Yum - eggs!!!!

Struggling to Heal

I struggle with things that are common to most, if not all, victims of abuse. I struggle to laugh, to trust, to have faith, to establish attainable goals, and to reach out to others. I struggle with believing in my value, being a better person, and finding a way to help someone just like me.

                  
I struggle because sometimes my mind takes me back to those places and times when I was most vulnerable and very much alone. When that happens, I have learned to share the pain and heartache with my wife as well as with a few highly trusted and very close friends. By sharing with those people who have earned my trust, I heal faster and more deeply. Sharing is an essential part of my healing.

But when I was younger, I was not as selective in determining whom to trust. I trusted everyone, which caused nearly insurmountable problems and slowed down healing to a large degree. Over time, I’ve learned to trust those who have earned it through their ability to listen and to love. To trust those who pray for me and not those who just say they pray for me.

I struggle because I know what I want to be and how I want to live, yet I am so very far away. I struggle because I have not fully healed and probably will never be completely healed prior to meeting God face-to-face.

I still struggle with grief for the childhood that was destroyed through abandonment, abuse, lies, and deception. Can tears wash away all that pain? No. But the Father does!

I received an e-mail today from someone who’s going through the healing process and feels like there is very little hope. She asked me, when will the pain end? It does end, but sometimes very slowly as layer after layer of bad memories are allowed to see the light of day.

 
If you are discouraged today and feel like giving up, I understand. Sometimes I feel that way, too. Sometimes progress seems so slow and healing so very far away. Little by little, I am being healed. Little by little, I am learning to trust His love and allow Him to touch my heart where it hurts.

Today is one of those days. Today He touched my heart and healed some of my secret pain. Today He told me, in a very personal and intimate way, that He loves me so much. Today He changed me just a little bit more.

He is our Father Who is in heaven, and His name is to be held above all others for He is the Creator and the Caretaker of our souls. He is the Author of life—our lives! He is able to slay the giants in your life and mine. He is able to fill us with His hope, His joy, His peace, and His life.

Let's give Him this moment! This moment, which is all we have right now, can be a great and treasured gift if we give it to Him! Let's enjoy healing at His pace! Let's trust Him to get us there!

Hey, let's go meet the Author of our lives and get filled in on the next chapter.  Let's see how He will autograph our souls!

Faith That is Tested

Have you ever dared to believe in yourself just to find that you are the only one who really does? Have you ever had faith in what you believe even though everyone is telling you to give up? Have you ever dared to stand toe-to-toe with your own personal bully? If you have done any of these things then you know the feeling of being an underdog.

                                 
Faith without the risk of failure is flabby and anemic; it needs to be exercised by challenges and opportunities in order to grow and mature. Like a handsome stallion with the wind in its mane, faith must run free. The beauty of faith is never more evident than when it is free from the fear of failure.

As David walked up the hill toward Goliath, he knew the feeling that comes when faith is permitted to run free. Crossing enemy lines, David knew the feeling of faith that was ready to meet a giant head-on. With Goliath screaming in his face, David’s faith was about to be tested. 

I talk a lot about faith because I understand hopelessness and fear. From the time that I was 3½ years old to the time that I enlisted in the Marine Corps when I was 19, I was truly alone and lived in mortal fear of both of my adoptive parents. Here was Goliath screaming in my face. Facing him head-on tested my faith.  

If you live in pain from childhood abuse, sexual abuse, fear, rape, or trauma, I would like the opportunity to pray with you. I want to hear about your successes and failures, your hopes and dreams, what you’ve read that has inspired you. It’s encouraging to hear how God works. Please send me an e-mail at wordsfromthebench@gmail.com. I treasure your e-mails!!!!

Speaking opportunities: I would love the opportunity to speak to your group, large or small, about faith in the face of abuse. I believe that my story will touch the hearts of people in powerful ways. Right now I charge no fee for speaking. You may contact me via e-mail at wordsfromthebench@gmail.com.

Struggling to Stay Alive

Are you tired of listening to the bullies in your life?

David was!

Are you ready to take action?

                                           

David was!

So David said “No thank you” to King Saul and returned his tunic, armor, and helmet. Can you imagine that scene? The best armor the king could offer just wasn’t David’s size or style. It didn’t fit a shepherd!

 
David said goodbye to the king and headed toward the battlefield. Coming to a brook, he carefully selected five smooth stones and put them in his bag, gathered up his sling, and headed toward the Philistine.

Meanwhile, standing behind his armor-bearer, great big Goliath moved closer to David so that he could get a good look at the man who was brave enough to come out and fight him. But when he looked David over, Goliath saw that David was just a boy, ruddy in complexion and handsome. Goliath despised him!!

Does your Goliath despise you? This is not a rhetorical question. It begs for a deeply heartfelt response.

So I ask again: Does your Goliath despise you? Does your Goliath loathe you?  Does your Goliath look down on you and mock you? Does he despise your faith?
Are you tired of being despised by your Goliath? If you are like me, thinking about this makes you angry. Very angry.

But there is nothing that you have gone through that God cannot heal. Absolutely nothing. I know!

Thank You

I got an e-mail from someone who told me that the last post filled her eyes with tears. I am so glad to hear that people are responding this way. It means that God is working through the words to bring healing and comfort.

When God works through our words, we have become a part of the healing process for others. What a great opportunity and privilege! Thanks!

Why I Write

I got an e-mail a few days ago asking me why I write. For that reason, I’m including some personal information that may help you to understand who I am and what message, if any, I have to convey.

I write because I know what it feels like to be beaten in the night by those who claimed to love me.

I write because the words of my mom tore my heart in two.

I write because God’s hand has preserved me through nights of shame and hopelessness.

I write to touch just one broken heart.

I write because I have stood at the edge of insanity, asked God to take me home, and all God did was take my hand.

Yet these are not the only reasons why I write.

I write because I cannot stop!!! These words, which are not theology, will not stop for they come from a deeply grateful spirit that has been lifted from a bed of shame so deep and remote that the words cannot be fully spoken.

I write because I have been touched by God's intense concern for me, and He has not let go.

                                                                      

I write my stories to help you to better understand exactly who God is and how much He loves us for it was through story that God touched me.

When I was young boy, my adoptive mother was a very unhappy woman. In reality, she hated me. She hated my dad because he did not hate me. Beginning when I was about in third grade, my mom began using the Bible to punish me. I don’t think King James would have ever thought that reading his version of the Bible would be punishment, but when you’re a young boy with a speech impediment and told to read it out loud every night after supper for one hour while standing, it can actually be a form of punishment. I later learned that this was done to humiliate me. And it did. In fact, this psychological abuse caused me great damage. Lest you think that I’m off on a tangent, I just want to illustrate how God uses the terrible things in our lives to bring about good. How He turns what is destructive and harmful and brings forth beauty and insight.

Even though being forced to read the Bible out loud was meant to humiliate me,  I learned that the Bible is filled with real people. In a home that brought new meaning to the word abuse, God used His Word to bring hope through the halting voice of a third grader whose reading skills were so terrible that he was constantly mocked by his own mother. With a speech impediment that plagued me until seventh grade, I read. But as I read, I gained hope! I don’t believe that’s what Satan had in mind! I don’t believe that’s what my mother had in mind! But that’s what occurred. God used the daily reading of His Word to teach me about a young boy named David.

I can barely speak of the things that happened in that home. But in that home, I read a book from the Bible that was so filled with hope that I secretly read it on my own so that I could find out how the story ended. It is from the eyes of that broken child that I see David. It is through the eyes of hopelessness and pain that I write about this boy who gave me the hope to believe. When I talk about David, I cannot teach as a scholar for I am not trained as a scholar. I cannot instruct for I am not trained as a professor. And I cannot teach the intricacies of Hebrew or Greek because I failed both in my first semester of college.

But I can teach you about a young boy who changed history. I can teach you about an errand boy who was so devalued by his father that his father had nearly forgotten he existed. I can teach you about a young boy who was picked on by his older brothers and was likely mocked for being too young, too clumsy, too stupid, too everything else to amount to a hill of beans. From that perspective, I can show you the love and grace God has used to cover me and give me hope in some of the darkest times of my life. That’s why I write about David.

When I was a boy, I hid under the covers and thought about what it would have been like to go up against Goliath. I wondered if I would have had the courage. Many times I sat there for what seemed like hours thinking about the five smooth stones. In my mind, I could touch and feel them, and wondered what it would have felt like to walk that distance toward certain death. What I didn’t realize then is that Goliaths come in all shapes and sizes. I also didn’t realize that God’s love is so strong that Goliath and all of his raging could not keep me from Him and His great love. But one thing I did know: I wanted to be like David.

But to be like David, I had to get angry deep within my being at my fear and indecision. I had to live on the rash side of life, and walk out from behind the crowd of Israelites into full view of my Goliath and look him in the eye. I had to step out so he could see me. And when I stepped out, I found that I was in the power of the Holy Spirit and in the company of God’s angels.

As many of you know, I recently had a stroke and before that I had cancer and struggled with deep, recurrent depression. For so many years, I wondered whether I had the strength to survive. I cried out for God to heal me for so long that I thought He had gone as stone cold as death. But finally, after months of prayer, God slowly started to move. As I listened to my pastor preach sermon after sermon, tears streamed down my face. And God saw the tears! God saw the heart crying out to him. God looked back in time and saw the little boy hiding under his covers. God saw that little boy and had mercy on him! That’s why I talk about Goliath! Because I want all my friends to understand the richness of God’s love for little boys and girls whose Goliath seems so big and terrifying.

That’s why I write!