"Do you understand what you are reading?"

The Thanksgiving week is nearing its end, it was a good week. I learned that the words “abnormal growth”, as frightening as they sound is much better than the word “cancer”. My latest novel, “Broken Crosses” went live on Thanksgiving Day. There is a link on the right side of this page if you would like to check it out. (Please do!)

The good news from the doctor combined with the completion of ‘Broken Crosses” has lightened the burden I bear considerably. I have been slack in my blogging, using the previously unknown diagnosis and the around the clock occupation of my thoughts along with the final edits of the book as excuses not to write. So now I have exhausted all excuses and reentered the blogosphere.

My granddaughter asked me “Why are you always writing Grandpa?” I don’t recall the answer I gave this inquisitive six year old, but her question did make me ask my own—“Why do I write?” The answer is complex; first I enjoy writing. I have been writing for many years now, it was only in the last six or seven that I gained the courage to share my thoughts with a reader. Second, because of my faith in God; I believe that when Christ said “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature” he was not just speaking to the disciples that sat around the table. His words were recorded for every believer to read and obey.

Now not all believers will “preach”, but all believers must be ready always to give an answer to every man that asks about the hope that is within. The hope that is within is the gospel. Not all believers will or can “go into all the world”, but the written word of the believer certainly can with 21^st century technology. I find it incredible that the words I write tonight can be read anywhere in the world with just the click of a mouse. Now that’s not saying they will be, but I do know this; if I do not write about my faith then no one will ever read about my faith!

I am blessed to be able to teach from the Bible each Sunday at Trinity Baptist Church in San Antonio, Texas. Consider this an invitation, if you are ever compelled to fill your Sunday mornings with good company and scripture then come join Thee Class at Trinity. My intentions are to combine the time I spend studying and preparing to teach with the demanding time needed to update this blog. There may be some redundancy if you happen to read the blog and sit in the class, but I promise to try and never bore you. It is a simple promise to keep; God’s word is never boring!

Currently we are studying the Book of Acts from the perspective of being an effective witness for Christ. Our study today centered on Phillip and an Ethiopian eunuch. If you would like to read the story you will find it in chapter 8 of Acts. Every week the Lord seems to place a certain verse or passage on my heart even though the study may span an entire chapter. Today was no different. As I studied last week I kept returning to Phillip’s question to the Ethiopian man, “Do you understand what you are reading?” [Acts 8:30] In this case the man was reading the 53^rd chapter of Isaiah, the greatest place to begin an understanding of who Christ is. As I thought about Philip’s question I began to apply it to all scripture. The Ethiopian could have been reading almost any verse(s) in the Bible and concluded with the same question, “Who is the Christ?” The entire Bible is written about Jesus, by either pointing to Him or telling about Him.

But it is Phillip’s question that began to convict. “Do I understand what I am reading?” Not brain-understanding, but heart-understanding. Let me try to explain. I read the Bible a lot; I receive great enjoyment from reading the Bible and then studying the historians and commentators, men and women much smarter than I, and developing a better understanding of the scriptures and biblical times. Hopefully that leads to brain-understanding.

Heart-understanding on the other hand only comes when I open my life to His word. It is one thing to know scripture, to be able to quote chapter and verse; it is an entirely different thing to live scripture. Satan can quote scripture; I dare say he knows it better than you or I. But his brain-understanding is temporal, one day it will be useless. Brain-understanding makes us smarter; heart-understanding changes our life.

“Do I understand what I am reading?” Phillip had gone first into Samaria and then into the desert of Gaza. He did so because he was following his heart. Phillip’s love for Jesus Christ was so great that he shared the gospel in a land whose people had rejected Jesus and with an Ethiopian man, a foreigner, a man whose race and ethnicity as different from his own. “Do I understand what I am reading?”

Do I possess the boldness, courage and impartiality towards any man or woman to act as a witness for Christ, an ambassador of the gospel? Regardless of race, ethnic background, religious beliefs, social choices of that person?

I do not.

One day I hope to shed the old layers of prejudices that were a part of my old self. I do not struggle with the immaturity of racism, but I am still too quick to judge someone based on their behavior or beliefs. Today there are people that I know and love to whom I cannot witness because of who they are. That is simply wrong.

Thank God that he didn’t judge me first.

It Didn't Happen

I thought I had written the last entry for this blog. I began fresh with a new blog, “Is God in My Pajamas?” a few months back. It is on the lighter side when compared to this one. I did so to try and put behind me the constant darkness that surrounds writing about addictions. But I can’t seem to get completely away.

A few days ago a thought wandered into my mind from nowhere. Once inside it began rolling around, changing and growing constantly. With effort I would push it aside. But it just kept coming back, kicking other thoughts away like a bully on the playground.

The thought- what would be different today if you hadn’t become an addict.

I went back in time, trying to remember the way things were and the way I had hoped things would be.

Georgetown, Texas-

We were back in Texas after our adventures in Alaska. I didn’t know then that the addiction that would destroy everything in its path like a F5 tornado had its roots in Alaska.

Our children were growing up too fast. Jennifer and Elizabeth were enjoying the life of young girls. There were boyfriends, choir and dance teams. James was just a little boy who played baseball with his Dad and brought home the occasional frog. My hopes for the future of our children included thoughts of proms and high school graduations, college, careers and families of their own. I pictured grandchildren who would love the Lord, like eating cake with grandpa and hrowing our family tree. Things were good.

Almost.

Your addiction was taking on new forms. Your secret life was starting to reveal. Trust was eroding. With each lie you told my trust in you suffered further corrosion. I had always been a man who believed, who trusted, always willing to give the benefit of doubt. To this day I no longer know how to trust.

Lies and lack of trust turned into perpetual arguments. The fighting was non-stop. Our problems stormed down the hill to our children. I started taking it out on them. My lack of trust was no longer limited to you; I didn’t trust my own children.

An opportunity for change came. We made the decision to relocate to Georgia. I thought that new surroundings, new beginnings would make you stop.

It didn’t happen.

Atlanta, Georgia-

A new home in Georgia. But our daughters, Jennifer and Elizabeth did not come. The tension was too much for them and they looked for peace with their real father’s family. I knew I had lost them. I knew I had lost them because of what you were doing to me, to our family.

Our baby, Sara Rose was the newest member of our family. Even at such a young age she was excited about moving to Georgia. I was never able to let go of the thought that she spent her first days of life in  intensive care at Seton Hospital because of the pills you abused so often. On my knees I asked God to let her live, that the sins of the parents would not pass down.

When you became pregnant with Joseph the same fear haunted me every day for nine months. Would he suffer the way Sara had?

I believe it was the grace of God that allowed our life to have some semblance of normalcy during those years in Georgia. I poured myself into my career, partly to avoid spending time with you. The abuse of painkillers had changed you so much I could no longer recognize the woman I had fallen in love with.

Then you chose to admit to your addiction to me at a time that could only interfere. My career was moving in the direction I had hoped for. In less than a year I would have been promoted to the C.O.O. of one of the fastest growing companies in Georgia,

It didn’t happen.

You wanted to move back to Texas. You wanted a fresh start. Running away was the real motive; I just didn’t recognize it then. Our son James made the same decision that Jennifer and Elizabeth had made, he wanted to stay in Georgia, not with family but with friends. That day, that very moment he told me his decision, may be the saddest I have experienced in a life that has been riddled with sorrow.

You said that if we moved back Texas you would get the professional help you needed.

It didn’t happen.

Texas-

Nothing changed. You found new ways to obtain the painkillers. You honed your deceit like an expert. I prayed that you would seek help.

It didn’t happen.

I prayed that you would hit rock bottom. I thought you did.

It didn’t happen.

I thought you would be with me forever. I stayed with you through everything; I thought you would surely do the same.

It didn’t happen.

I thought I would love you forever.

It didn’t happen.

I apologize to you dear readers if you stayed till the end. I know it was depressing to read about the sadness of my life. My purpose in writing this is twofold-

I hope that no one ever has to go through what I did. If you are an addict then you must know that the pain you cause others is immense. Those others love you, they deserve better. If you live with an addict then I hope that you can learn from my mistakes, do not enable. No matter how much you love them, saying “no” hurts for a time but the pain of loss suffers long.

Second, I thought that writing this would provide closure-

It didn’t happen.