Since the day I was born I've been at odds with this world. I watch 100 people get into a situation, take a certain course of action, and get a certain result; I get into that situation and take that course of action, and what comes back to me can only be described as pure insanity. A lot of incredibly awesome things have been laid on my table, but I've found that 90% of the time to world puts me on a pedestal it's so I'll have farther to fall when it kicks it out from under me. I've spent my life trying to make people happy and other than my wife I don't think I've ever made anyone happy. The more I avail myself to others, the more they betray and backstab me.
I tried to kill myself when I was 17, obviously that too failed. But hardly a day goes by that I don't wish it had worked. Or that I don't think, Lord, today someone will die who doesn't want to, take me instead. I promised God that I would never try it again, but I have. Not overtly, but I've taken chances and exposed myself to some very toxic environments, based on the mantra that if I die at 60 instead of 80 that's 20 years of this crap I don't have to endure. And my mantras have a spooky way of coming true.
In a little more than 2 weeks, I will turn 60.
I always hated the city, always felt like I should have been on a farm or ranch or herding cattle across the open plains. I always thought that, given that spirit, it was ironic that God would place (and He left no doubt it was Him doing it) me smack dab in the middle of one of the biggest metropoli in the world. It took it's toll, I managed to hold out until 45 but by 50 I was an exhausted wreck. Honestly have no idea where the energy came from to take another breath. I figured depletion alone was going to take me before I hit 60.
3 years ago God led us to, well, move. Kinda. Found a place in the country - farm land - where people actually appreciate and welcome my presence. Where I can help a stranger get a can off a high shelf and not get snarled at. Where I can share a thought without it being interrupted and beat down. Where if I don't show up, people actually notice that I'm not there and are concerned enough to call. And the exposure to that has been good for me, I'd now rate my condition as empty but no longer depleted. God has, finally after 59 years of pure sh!t, brought me home.
Home to die it would seem. Since the day I awoke from the coma I've been prophesying this year as the year I see my rapture. Now it's here and God has laid out all I have ever wanted ... needed. I'm grateful for the taste of it; kinda think maybe I should be repenting of my prophesies, but ... like Paul lamented, even the very best of this world is but dross compared to His. Given the choice to be able to spend time in my dream environment or go home, I'm still leaning towards going home.
Of course, ultimately it's not my choice but God does defer to us at times.
Just not really sure where it goes from here.
I tried to kill myself when I was 17, obviously that too failed. But hardly a day goes by that I don't wish it had worked. Or that I don't think, Lord, today someone will die who doesn't want to, take me instead. I promised God that I would never try it again, but I have. Not overtly, but I've taken chances and exposed myself to some very toxic environments, based on the mantra that if I die at 60 instead of 80 that's 20 years of this crap I don't have to endure. And my mantras have a spooky way of coming true.
In a little more than 2 weeks, I will turn 60.
I always hated the city, always felt like I should have been on a farm or ranch or herding cattle across the open plains. I always thought that, given that spirit, it was ironic that God would place (and He left no doubt it was Him doing it) me smack dab in the middle of one of the biggest metropoli in the world. It took it's toll, I managed to hold out until 45 but by 50 I was an exhausted wreck. Honestly have no idea where the energy came from to take another breath. I figured depletion alone was going to take me before I hit 60.
3 years ago God led us to, well, move. Kinda. Found a place in the country - farm land - where people actually appreciate and welcome my presence. Where I can help a stranger get a can off a high shelf and not get snarled at. Where I can share a thought without it being interrupted and beat down. Where if I don't show up, people actually notice that I'm not there and are concerned enough to call. And the exposure to that has been good for me, I'd now rate my condition as empty but no longer depleted. God has, finally after 59 years of pure sh!t, brought me home.
Home to die it would seem. Since the day I awoke from the coma I've been prophesying this year as the year I see my rapture. Now it's here and God has laid out all I have ever wanted ... needed. I'm grateful for the taste of it; kinda think maybe I should be repenting of my prophesies, but ... like Paul lamented, even the very best of this world is but dross compared to His. Given the choice to be able to spend time in my dream environment or go home, I'm still leaning towards going home.
Of course, ultimately it's not my choice but God does defer to us at times.
Just not really sure where it goes from here.
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