Society may not care…but there is one who does.

14 06 2010

Society tells me as a man that I’m to get in touch with my emotions more. It tells me that I need to work more on being self aware. Society tells me that I need to feel more. Society tells me that I need to be able to express my emotions and how I feel more. It tells me that as a man I need to share more of what is going deep inside my inner man. To be able to express my fears, my inadequacies and to face up to who I really am not.

Yet when I a man cry out from deep within where I have buried my pain. When I a man share of his deep shame, and cry from the pain. When I a man, share of a soul destroying shame that is caused by domestic violence at the hands of his wife.

What do I find? I find that society doesn’t really want to know a man who feels pain. Society doesn’t really care to hear that he is self aware. Society turns around and ignores his cry. Society laughs at his pain. Society denies his right to help and even assumes blame, and thinks he is less of a man. And so society adds to his guilt and shame.

And so this man turns inward having been encouraged by society to self blame and carry guilt and shame. For it turns out that society really wants a man who doesn’t care. Doesn’t feel! For what society really wants is a man to be silent and not to really share. It really wants this man to neither share, nor to be bent over double in despair.

But as a Christian I find a whisper to my soul. Keep looking up, for here you will find your goal. You can cast all your burdens onto me for I care. My yoke is easy and with me you can share. I know all about you. I know of your cares.

And so silently I start to cry out to above. Then the pain starts to come out; and becomes more then a sob. It’s a moan without words. It renders the heart. It comes from a pain of desperation that doesn’t know where to start.

Society may not care. And it may seem that I am on my own. No matter my struggle. No matter my need. No matter who ignores me, or refuses my story to believe. I have taken heart to know that the one whom is above. He has totally walked in my shoes and so gives comfort from above.

This comfort and care and this deep love from above, it’s not just for me. It’s for all who are in need. For He cries out to all, Come, come to me. All who are heavily burdened and deeply tired and in great pain. For I will give you rest. I will grant you relief. Together we will walk and bring you through all this grief.

So I start to sob and pour my heart out to God. He takes my pain, and replaces it again and again. He grants me great hope. He takes my guilt and he takes my shame and he replaces it with acceptance and love. It’s a love that’s so deep. A love that can only come from above, he replaces deep sorrow with joy from above. It’s a joy that brings strength. It’s a joy that brings hope.

And so the whisper to my soul is there is a future for you. I have a plan and a purpose and I truly love you.

Words that cut deep.

18 05 2010

Inside I’m dying, wanting to do what is right. Knowing that no matter what I do it won’t be enough. It’s never enough. My body has failed me and my mind is confused. Sickness has ravaged my being, causing me to be unable to do what I once took for granted.

Recovery is slow, my steps are short. I tire ever so easily. Yet the little I do is never enough. Your words cut to the bone. They are sharper and more destructive then the needle used for the lumber punctures that I had to endure. They cause me to weaken more then what the virus did in causing my paralysis.

The words you spoke were worse than the hits to my head. They were worse than the bite to my wrist. They were worse than the personal items you destroyed. Words destroying the little identity I had left of whom I was. They were like machine gun bullets destroying my flesh. The flesh of my inner man. The flesh of my mind, the flesh of my heart.

No matter what I do, I know its not enough. It’s never enough. No matter how hard I try, my body fails me. My memory is shattered and the virus gave me partial amensia. Yet I know deep inside me I have forgotten something. What is it I fear? I know that soon I will find out. Too soon I will find out. If I could only forget the words that you say. They are so sharp and so barbed that they dig deeper into my flesh.

Your words telling me a real man would be out working, while I went shopping in a wheel chair, denying me money to buy Christmas presents. Your words telling me that you hold me in contempt, because I should be out working instead of spending 2 months in hospital. Words that cut deep. It would take me three days to mow the lawn…yet it was never enough. Who was I to want to try to write a book was often your catch cry. Who do you think you are was your often enough snarl? A question that I couldn’t answer; for I couldn’t answer who was I.

Your words cut me deep, a pain ever so sharp. Those words that I feared more than your bite. Your words caused more pain than the friendships you destroyed. A pain that was so deep, I didn’t know how to survive. Depression set in, your’e mental you cried. The words cutting deeper, causing deep destruction inside.

Let’s pray I suggested; “But not with you” you would cry, “a more cursed man I have never laid eyes.” God has turned His back on you, your prayers He will ignore, oh by the way Hell is your reward.  Oh your words they cut deep, ever so deep. Confusion and pain continues to build on more pain.

You belittled my hopes and spat on my dreams. I had gone numb and at times dared not to breathe. I struggled enough with what the encephalitis had done, but it was a walk in the park compared to what you had done. Out of my home I was forced, with no where to go. So into my van I had to go. For nearly six weeks I slept in the back of my van, for their was no where else for me to go.

My mobility was limited, finances tight. My disability compounded because of the fright. Your words cut me deep, there was no escape. The memory of them would hound me during the night. Daytime would come, and I would stagger out into the light. But no matter what happened it wasn’t enough. $420 a fortnight was all I had to live on….50% you cried was your due. Your words cut me deep, ever so deep.

No matter what I did it was never enough, my own well being you couldn’t give a stuff. Oh those words, they cut me so deep. They would continue to trouble me in my sleep.

How sweet it would have been to have a friend at hand, but your words caused them all to turn against me. I was at fault for leaving the home. What a bastard they said, how could he do this to you, despising me more and shutting the door. My church blackbanned me, no more contact from them, causing more pain to continue its destruction within.

Those words cut deep, destroying within…a shell of a man of whom I had been. How sweet it was to hear the voice of a friend. Now those times are past, over a year has gone by and now there are new friends, a new church, a new hope. A new wife to be….oh such hope. The disability is still there, recovery is slow….though my balance has improved and my walk isn’t so slow. My memory still fails me and tiredness sets in.

But with new words of hope and joy setting in I’m slowly able to shed the words of the past into the bin.