Category Archives: hope

The healing Needle

Sometimes writing is like putting a puzzle together, I put out all these thoughts on paper but after I have laid it all out I have to go back and sift through them in order to make a complete thought. That is how this blog has been coming out. I wasn’t even really sure what it was that I was trying to say other than just getting out some thoughts that have been plaguing my mind and heart. Sometimes it is just the confession of the reality of my mind that helps me to heal and see the reason I am dwelling there. I have been so hurt and angry lately. I tried ignoring it but the out come of that is always the same. It is still there when I choose to stop hiding.

When I was a kid I was walking on top of this wooden fence. Don’t ask me why I was walking up there. Maybe it was the thrill of doing something dangerous, or the fact that I thought I was quite invincible when I was a child. As I was walking a crossed it I stepped on this loose board and it swung up and hit me in the back of the leg, taking with it a large chunk of my flesh. Quite morbid I know yet it happened. I was staying at my aunt’s house, and so when I walked into her house with this gushing wound, she freaked out and rushed me to the hospital. I have always been quite fearless yet I do not handle pain well at all. I avoid it at all cost. When I was at the hospital they needed to give me a shot to make sure I didn’t get any bad deceases or infections in my wound. I know that the shot was for my own good but there was know way in hell I wanted a giant needle entering my body let alone my wound. It took 4 nurses to hold me down, as I yelled and kicked and protested there needle sticking. I was 10!

The reason I bring up this story is because sometimes walking through the hurts and pains of our life is much like someone sticking a giant needle in us. Even though the out come is healing, the pain of walking through it sometimes feels unbearable. The past few years have been the most painfully times I have ever had to walk through in my 33 years of life, some self inflicted yet some not. But through all of it there is still this small still voice that beckons my heart to live. To not give up or throw in the towel, and believe me I am beyond throwing in the towel, I am at the point of burning it. I have tried praying it away yet it remains. I do not understand the evil that prevails in our world, and how we let it prevail in and threw us. But I guess we would never know the light if there was no darkness to compare it to.

I have been praying for my enemies, praying that god would bless them, that he would pursue their hearts and teach them about love. But even more than this I have been praying that God would give me a genuine love and care for their life over mine. The Gospel is easy when we only give it to those who we enjoy and love already, but when we choose to walk the gospel out with those who make it hard, then I believe we start to see the real power that it holds. There is nothing harder if you ask me then choosing to love the people who hurt and rob you of life and joy. But there is nothing more freeing either!




Tonight I watched Forest Gump and I would say that it has been a long while since I had seen it. I do say a great movie, and I think I had forgotten how good it really was. As I found myself lost in the character of Tom Hanks, my heart fell victim to his simply way of life. Live life honest and full and never look back wishing you would had done this or that. There is something about a good story that brings hope to our lives and stirs something deeper inside of us, or at least in me.

I wept all through the movie, not because of the story of Forest Gump but because of the story of my own life. I was saddened tonight at the fact that I sometimes just shut off. That I let my life go into what I would call, Autopilot. I am coming to the realization that sometimes to face the truth, it hurts, and it hurts a lot, and in order to heal and over come we have to face the mountains that lay before us. Just sometimes it is easier to not feel or least that is the lie that tempts us.

I want to love myself! That is in a way that says that I am satisfied with whom God has made me to be. I am learning that in order to love others we must first learn to love our selves. That until we feel true value of who we are there is no way we can see value in other people. I believe that is why the bible teaches us to love others the way we would love ourselves.

I was talking with a good friend tonight about the way we see ourselves. About how that view alters the way we live and the things we do. If we feel small or dumb, useless or ugly it affects how we act and the life we live. Yet if we feel beautiful and loved we radiate with joy for there is nothing better in the world than to be fully loved. I am trying to let the love of God penetrate my hardened heart. You see I have a hard time seeing the good in myself. I struggle with the view of who I am more than you would ever know. You might think that because I stand on a stage that somehow I am granted some kind of bubble the shields me from all the impaling hurts this life throws at us but it is far from the truth. I am insecure and scared just like the rest of us that is if we really get honest with our selves.

But the truth is that we are perfectly and wonderfully made in the image of God. That regardless of our history and our fault that God still sees the potential of greatness within our human shells. We are the making of his hands and the wonder and glory of who he is.
We are his masterpiece!

Winters End!

A couple days ago I was in the kitchen when I heard Cohen screaming “dada” I rushed to see what it was he was yelling about and low and behold I found Cohen with my Wallet. He had found it laying on the coffee table and started pulling out my cards and well found my Drivers License and was joyfully waving the license in the air yelling “dada”. He was so enamored with the fact that my picture was on this card. The wheels had started turning and he wanted so badly to inform me that I was on this tiny little piece of plastic. Sometimes I wish I could get in his head to see what the discovery process of his little mind looks like. If something could ever melt your heart it is the joy and love of a little human excited about who you are. I fear for the day that daddy is not as exciting as he had once thought him to be. But for now I will take what ever I can get.

Cohen is such a little love bug. Sometimes I will be sitting on the couch and he will climb up next to me in just start impaling me with hugs and kisses. He will give me the biggest hug then stand up and just giggle as if he some how knew I needed just that very thing. The joy God is bringing me through him is so undeserved and yet so needed all at the same time. God is healing my lack of a father through the fathering of my own son.

This last week has been a melting of the heart kind of week. I feel that spring has finally come and the winter’s ice is starting to finally melt away. My heart has been in a very cold place for a while and I would have to say that I have found my self very angry with God. But know matter how much I want to stay angry, when he chooses to come in the anger just seems to melt away and all that is left is a very hungry heart that is longing for more of the father’s warmth. He has been whispering sweet words into my heart and mind, the gentle “I love you” and the “hang in there kiddo, I will never leave you nor forsake you”. My life has felt like a hurricane now for over a year. I have found myself screaming to God, “where are you”, “why won’t you show up and heal this mess”. I don’t understand God by a long shot but he never fails to show up. Sometimes it is just not on my timing, well most of the time it is not on my timing. But I stand here in the warm spring day with a hunger of God’s love saying, “I am yours, all of me, anything and everything, I belong to you”.

The Water Within

I have been I guess you could say a tear factory as of lately. Seems like it doesn’t take much to send me into a heavy cry. Sometimes it is just ridiculous what starts it. I was watching “House” the other night and I swear I cried for a better half of the show, now granted it was a quite sad episode but never the less the tears just kept a coming. It was about a little girl who had cancer and her courage to fight and find the best of the day, it was well moving me. I don’t know what it is about people concurring obstacles and over coming hardships that are so empowering. Deep down in us whether we want to admit it, we long to see others succeed. And when we do well for me, the tears just start pouring.

I have always been a crier, every since I was a little boy. My soul and spirit are very sensitive to things, and I can’t watch TV without bursting into a water hose. I use to think it was a bad thing and hate the fact that I couldn’t control it. I was teased a bigger part of my life because of how sensitive I was. But I have come to a place of embracing the fact that it is just who I am. Most of the time it is a weird joy-giving cry. A cry that somehow I believe is healing the wounds within.

Crying is such a weird thing, you know? Your body or mind feels something so much that it convulses and spits water from you r eyes. That you lose all composer and crumble, it is quite a mystery. The bible even says that Christ cried. I wonder what that would have sounded like. What would the God of all, sound like weeping his pain. Such a mystery, yet so profound. I really don’t have an ending to this post; I guess I just wanted to ramble some thoughts. Anyways hope life is in a place of deep feeling for you.



I sit tonight with a deep sadness filling my heart. Life for the last two years have been the hardest two years I can remember and for me that is saying a lot, cause I have seen a lot of hard days. I have sought help from so many places, prayer, pastors, counselors, Medication, friends. I have talked my problems out till I felt blue in the face. I refuse to let my heart die. I refuse to give up. Everywhere I go I am haunted by 3 numbers and it seems funny to even say that. how can you be haunted by numbers, but I am. It is the hotel room i am in, or the the date of the day, the time i just happen to look at the clock, the length of the new song. They won’t leave me alone. At first I thought it was John 3:16 that i kept seeing but I have come to feel it is deeper than that. I feel God is say 1 John 3:16. That a man must lie down his life for another. I feel that God has been telling me to die. I feel scared and alone at times, I don’t know how to die. I feel so often that no one understands and if I shared my darkest hour I feel sometimes the Love would end. I don’t know why God blesses what I do for my heart is so dirty. My marriage had been far from even a swim in a ditch. It has been hard as hell, can I say that, cause that is what i truly feel. Thing is I love my wife So much yet I fail her so much. How could this war in me be so strong. How could I let the evil one hold me so hard. My heart yearns for the truth in yet it is so easy to sometimes settle, for the road of love is so hard. I still ask for prayer. I want my family. please pray for Gods mercy for my family. Is it morbid for me to ask for death even when I feel it is what I truly need? My will, my wants, my dreams, need to die. I feel so heavy yet know that I can not bare this burden on my own anymore. I fear the future. I fear the fall. I Long for your words to the father, not to me. I don’t want to hear how great I am for I know the truth of my heart, I long for the birth in spirit and death in flesh. Let Christ find glory in the broken places of stinky humans.

In The Studio!

here is a short clip of cutting the strings on one of the songs for the new record. hope you enjoy

Facing Giants!

As Christmas is approaching I find myself dreading it more and more. Not that I don’t like Christmas, it is by far my favorite holiday. There is something blessed about this time of year. The music is jolly, the snows a falling, everyone for the most part are in a pretty cheerful mood. The smell of the Christmas tree is grand and then all the beautiful lights, well just make this time of year very enchanting. I love Christmas and all of its cheer.

You see my memories of Christmas as a kid are just grand. We lived in this little house next door to where my grand parents live now, and I can still remember and smell the old family room where we would light the fire and put up the tree. The scent of burning pine and Christmas tree for me is very nostalgic. My whole life we celebrated Christmas with my cousin Jeremy and Heather, my aunt and uncle, Sheri and Danny, my Grand parents, and sometimes my aunt and uncle, Debbie and Keith. We would stay in our PJ’s and sit around the fire and play with what ever new thing we happened to get that year. My cousin Jeremy and I were like best friends and so to share this time with him it was very grand time. My parents on the other side of things never were around. In fact to this day I have not one memory of my mom at Christmas and only like 4 with my dad. And that being said that the last 3 years my dad has been at Christmas making only 1 memory prior to that. I dread going cause I dread facing one of the goliaths in my life. I have so much hurt and anger in my heart that seeing my dad at my favorite time of the year kind a makes it for me a hard time to be cheery. I find myself battling feeling I forgot I even had, ever time I am around him. I think it could be different if I felt like he even cared that I was his son, but he is so clueless to my life it is almost comical.  I want so badly to forgive and move on, to just accept my lot and go on with my life. In fact I try really hard. When I am around him all he does is lie about everything, so much so I think that even he believes his own lies. And it is really hard to take the fact that no one really calls him out on anything. I have tried to tell him how I feel and how much he has hurt me but somehow it always just comes back to him. How nothing was his fault. Having the man that is suppose to be your father, show you nothing more than what it means to be 50 and have absolutely nothing going for yourself. To still live with mom and dad cause he can’t do it on his own. To run from everything in his life and yet still pretend that life is different. Sometimes I just can’t take it.

I hold my baby boy everyday and think to myself-how the hell could anyone do that to his or her child. How could someone just skip out and never look back. I tell my little boy daily that I love him, I hug him and kiss him, and at the same time I know that I don’t even know what that feels like. I use to long for those things, now I guess I have come to a place that I will be what my father wasn’t to me. I refuse to hurt my son this way. Sometimes I don’t even want my son around him in fear that he will hurt him like he hurt me. I hate these things about my self, how angry I can be. I just don’t know how to let go.

I have fallen on my face time and time again crying out for relief, crying out for healing, crying out for forgiveness, professing with my mouth that I forgive him. I have written him letters and tried talking with him and yet the wound is still very raw. I don’t hate him; I am just so saddened by his life. The pain is real, and sometimes the very sight of a man loving his child can just break me in half. I sit here in the heart of my pain knowing that in order to travel through I must wait it out. I much face my goliath. I know that just the fact he is here in my life now is God saying it is time to heal this broken heart of yours. That though this is going to be hard, I am with you, I am your salvation and I am your fortress.

I pray for this season to regain its joy. I pray that my heart can be alive even when death is creeping at my door. I pray that the Birth of Christ and the birth of my own son can be the healing factors of an absent father. I pray for the guidance on becoming a true man, a godly man, a man who would die for his family and considers his own life less valuable than those he loves. Let Christ be Christmas this year!

Strangleholds and Video Tapes

“Egotism is pathological self-obsession, a reaction to anxiety about whether one really does count. It is a form of acute self-consciousness and can be prevented and healed only by the experience of being adequately loved. It is, indeed, a desperate response to frustration of the need we all have to count for something and be held to be irreplaceable, with price.” Dallas Willard – The Divine Conspiracy

When I was a child I remember making up these grand ideas of how I was so great at something in order to make myself feel like I was someone. The stories I came up with were absolutely ridiculous and now thinking back on them I find them quite funny, yet sad all at the same time. For example, I use to like to tape movies, being that DVDs were not invented yet. I would be able to get 3 movies per tape and I would take such pride in the order and organization of them. I remember going on and on dreaming about how people would stumble upon my tapes and would be just blown away at how good I was at taping them. I would dream about hero moments of being hoisted up on shoulders and wondrous chants being said in name of Shawn the amazing taper. Silly I know and looking back on this I am almost embarrassed to even confess it, being how stupid it is in light of real achievement. But the truth is I wanted to just feel important. I wanted to be loved. I wanted to just know that someone thought I was all right.

I grew up with my grand parents and even though I know they loved me very much, they didn’t love me the way I needed to be loved. I needed Parents that cared about my heart and while mine were off somewhere mostly likely getting high I never knew what that was like. I grew up affirming myself. I grew up dreaming grand Ideas of who I wish I were. I was never good at anything, never the kid who made it, never the athlete, never the straight A student, I was never cool, never funny, I wasn’t even a good nerd, I just was. And so I would make up these, to me, glorious achievements, of how I was someone. You see I felt so unloved, or even a better way of putting it is that I felt unlovable. That was the definition I came up with to explain my parent’s departure. And so I lived a bigger part of my life living in a fantasyland that took me to a place of deep self-obsession. I even to this day struggle with thoughts of self-worth. I am trying to learn how to reprogram my mind and heart. Hoping that someday that when the storms of “self-worth” flood in, the rock of “true-worth” will out weigh and I will be able to stand firm in the fact that I am uniquely made and deeply loved void of fantasy. It is one thing to say you believe these things, like being loved, but it is another to actually live in a way that proves it. I say I believe god loves me and my, oh so small life issues, but the fact I didn’t have a father makes relating to “God the father” a very hard thing for me to grasp.

I have been reading “The Divine Conspiracy – By Dallas Willard”. A really deep and slow read but very profound. That being said I wanted to state another quote that I think goes along the lines of reprogramming our hearts.

“So any significant change can come only by breaking the stranglehold of the ideas and concepts that automatically shunt aside Jesus, “the Prince of Life” when questions of concrete mastery of our life arise.” Dallas Willard

I am finding I have lots of strangleholds. That I have grown up believing life is one way but I am finding that my believe system to quickly falling apart. That the survival modes that I used to pull my self through the pains of childhood are the very things that are killing my life and the ones I love around me today. The self-centeredness that saved my heart from dieing as a child is now my greatest enemy. I think the only hope for life is on the movement of our father to bring us out of the shell of self. It is only there that flesh and blood separate and it is by the blood that we have life.