Withering grass.

It is so easy to get wrapped up in my own "little world," where the concerns (while sometimes devastating or tormenting or even wholly overwhelming, except that the Lord shields and protects and guides and directs)...where the concerns are still yet arbitrary in the context of eternity. Except for that they are that chastisement, the molding, the trying, and the conforming of The Potter, and then so are truly the work of eternity...

...but...

...in a broader sense, those concerns aren't worth concern. Not when there are people who are dying in sin.

Not when, all around me, there's such gripping uncertainty and such all-consuming terror that people are rushing blindly into damnation, without having heard, seen, known, or experienced the Living Gospel.

And God will have mercy upon whom He will. That's just that.

It is, and He is good, so thus are all His ways. Without question.

Yet, there are things which can be done. Prayer. Fasting. Ardent seeking of the Lord's face, so as to be conformed into wholly knowing and living His will. Exhortation, edification, and persuasion of others, as the Lord guides.

Speaking. Talking to people.

I'm just still utterly devastated, at present, at the thought of living a silent Gospel. That's what I used to call myself doing. "Preach the Gospel at all times and when necessary use words," you know...the one questioningly attributed to St. Francis of Assissi..

..that was my life, before I came into a saving knowing of Christ. While I was attending church regularly, while I was going out of my way to show love to others by listening and doing whatsoever to support them (to the extents of my then-very-limited ability within the realms of patience and compassion, as on my own power and terms)--craving desperately, even then, to see people delivered from their pains and foibles and anxieties...knowing even the shred of peace which drawing near to the Lord at church afforded, I ached for others, too (again, to the then-very-limited capacity for doing such--I was so full of anger/rage, too, so...tainted love?).

Just...for those years between 2010, when I spoke "The sinner's prayer" out of fear...knowing Christ was the only way, but still only going "into Christianity" as a means of self-preservation..
...between June 2010, that night of recovering my stolen car and finding out how dangerous the man who stole it was--known affiliation with gangs that require murder as a rite of initiation...
...I knew I'd crossed a line again, back into the same territory I'd been wandering in New Orleans, whereby I'd begun to feel death breathing down the back of my neck, constantly. Knowing it was coming, per course of my own actions (suicide attempt/s, inclusive), and yet completely helpless to stop myself except to "step completely out" of the entire situation, by fleeing the city.

I knew it was only a matter of time. I could "feel it in my bones," as people say. Just knew the time was short, according to my way of life...according to my tendencies...according to my proclivities..
...and believed, somehow, that leaving New Orleans would eradicate that tendency.

Thing was, that tendency didn't develop in New Orleans. Merely could it flourish in wholly unchecked manners, more readily there--away from the circle of people who would even think of truly attempting to restrain me or influence me in any way. Despite that...there were a small handful of people there through whom I know the Lord made way...I owe them my life, given that they did snatch me from the very clutches of death, time to time. (...like, say, the morning my then-roommate, best-friend detected the influence of gas in the apartment, to find I'd turned on the stove overnight without lighting it...and he literally dragged me outside, given my unconscious, gas-fogged, intoxicated state...so then, it was even his life I'd put at stake, which while he did wholeheartedly admonish rightfully on such a count, the majority of response was concern for what had happened, on both our accounts. ..things like that.)

So many things. Terrible, terrible person. Completely irresponsible--no idea of what such a thing meant, nor what it entailed, in terms of action...just blindly groping onward with loosely wound desires to destroy myself and save others. Completely nonsensical.

But the same remained, departing New Orleans. And that instance in 2010 brought it into stark reality, yet again, and I was terrified to see that nothing in me had changed. I was terrified to again be confronted with the fact of my tendency into complete recklessness, as it indicated that continued course would again mean my not-too-distant demise (I started a life insurance policy earlier that year, even, comforted to know it would pay even in the instance of suicide after two years' continuation--I was expecting to die, and within a brief span, even contemplating...I could manage two years, just to know I'd left no financial burden.). Everything about my life was, in so many ways, in preparation for death. Even attending college was really only for the sake of fulfilling my mother's final requests--it was one of two things she insisted, the entire week she spent with me immediately prior to returning to WV and shooting herself. It was a matter of spending time, until that soon-eventual.

I had nothing to live for. I had no desire to do anything. I just wanted to do whatsoever piqued curiosity for a moment, taking whatsoever pleasure could be found in interacting with others (who largely were very emotionally distant), and doing any else which sparked a moment's worth of fulfillment. Continuing in varied private pursuits, unto a desire to help others, while going along a course of self-defeat. In therapy, all the while. And just miserable, in general. Miserable and lonely.

Even doing things which brought me pleasure, such as writing, learning, singing, photography, conversing with random people, and all soever else...it was all just so hollow.

No matter how much of myself I put into anything, whether it was of a "religious," "spiritual," or emotional nature...while there were generated moments of calm, moments wherein thoughts weren't raging and wherein there would come a semblance of serenity...that's all there was. There was a fixed-point sort of serenity, through with certain types of clarity would arise unto remark--further and further pursued with the hope of reaching and maintaining some paramount point of complete enlightenment which would deliver me from the mundanity of existence. Going into Zen Buddhist philosophies as a means of transcending the mundane, even--allowing, through variance in perspective, the "mundane" to take on connotations of greatness per even the explicit simplicity relished in monotony, as to free from self. The sound of one hand clapping, and all that noise.

Just, all the while, being "freed" by those sorts of pursuits...there was a persisting darkness, in terms of feeling wholly incomplete. Even in those moments whereafter meditation had been regularly undergone unto "transcendence," there was still a sense of void in terms of sensing a wholly distant infinite. Which, unless that's something personally noted, I'm not sure there's an adequate way to describe...or, at least, I don't personally, presently have any other terms which would be more suited without edging directly into blasphemy, as given the nature of my very thoughts at that point in time.

The difference between subjective and objective experience, really. Even having "removed myself" from the equation of consideration, in favor of "openly," "more genuinely" experiencing everything...there was still this vast sense that I was missing something, completely. Because the search to go higher, the search to see more broadly, the search to more and more openly regard all things without passion, with only compassion...that search never ended, but at the same time, it never took me to a place of deliverance. I could work my way out of things, I "empowered myself" to overcome certain things...even as to take more pleasure, "gain more fulfillment" from things undertaken...but there was never a sense of having arrived, truly. Just..this odd sensation of having a gaping blind spot which was utterly beyond me to doing anything in regard to except as to ignore in favor of more ardently pursuing whatsoever else was in front of me. Reading things such as Ram Dass's Be Here Now, and whatsoever by Deepak Chopra, and whosoever else along those lines...I would nod along, and just agree, but there was always a sense of desiring something more. Something just across the line, just a step further beyond what Rumi, Gibran, and any of the others spoke of...even as there were bits and pieces found therein which just "resonated."

There was something more.

And I'd become more open to the idea of Christianity, over the course of having stepped away from more blatantly pagan endeavors unto abandonment of ritual in favor of expressed will, into Eastern mysticisms (dating a Kabbalist who had apprenticed under a head voodoo priestess in New Orleans allowed a much deeper experience of each than was gleaned by merely reading and dabbling through quietly and solitarily), unto the religions of "transcendental enlightenment unto peace and compassion."

And there was no peace. Power, yes. Chaos, even moreso. Near-death, frequently.

I had just considered it freedom. I considered being able to go back and forth into any and each, without restriction, to be a "necessary" and "proper" freedom. I considered my due, and had completely rejected the tenets of Christianity, in terms of God requiring exclusive right to us in any capacity, through Christ alone.

I had no idea whatsoever of the wickedness it was, to so blaspheme the true and living God.

I mean...folks nowadays often scoff and shake their heads over the thought of the Israelites being led out of Egypt, then within a couple of generations (days/weeks, and again and again) to have begun to also worship other "gods." There's a sense of complete disbelief that the nation of Israel could do such a thing, given a "direct revelation" of God, as they were perceived to have had "above and beyond anything we experience," in a sense. How could they do that?

The same people who wonder that generally tend to hoard money, hoard possessions, brag about items in their wardrobe, brag about their success, brag about their jobs, brag about their family, brag about their accomplishments, brag about their ability, consider nature an end-all be-all of experience, and all manner of other methods of self/other idolatry. Idolatry is the worship of things/people/ideas/etc. other than God, y'all. Period.

I've lived that, in so many ways. I've been convicted of it by the Lord, and continue to be convicted of it whensoever those fleshly tendencies are still fallen into by "habit," i.e., outside of reliance solely upon the Lord.

Just, at a certain point of delving into pluralism of religion (after leaving New Orleans, 2009), I started to open up again to the idea of "Christianity." I still didn't really believe that Christ was the only way to be saved from ourselves and all else (not even having realized the abomination and depravity of self-idolatry as truly warranting wrath from a just God, at that point, nor even having begun to realize the preciousness of Christ and how devastating it is to sin against one so loving and good). I didn't believe He was the only way. He was more of an "it," then. He wasn't a person, to me, let alone God Himself.

But when everything fell apart all over again, despite all my efforts to the contrary, and the stark reality of the desperation of my situation was again highlighted...as my own efforts were again proven entirely faulty, entirely destructive, even fatal..

...something in me saw Christianity as the only escape. Not Christ then, at that point. Not Him, but the religion.

Out of fear.

But, every bit as much as I'd ever wholeheartedly pursued the other religions, to the extent of the hope and help and peace and deliverance possible through them...then, the same effort was begun on that front, over time. Gradually building up, over the subsequent years. From a point of just professing Christianity whenever folks asked about religion (again--not professing my Lord, Jesus Christ, but professing Christianity), without either attending church or reading the Bible or praying (ever), to a point of beginning to attend a (self-identified) "Biker Church" with increasing regularity, to a point of requesting prayer from others in tandem with attendance, to a point of periodically opening the Bible, to a point of cleaving to the Bible as the only means of making it through the stress of the day, to a point of telling people about church (in passing, always), to a point of believing there was no hope outside of church, to a point of complete collapse in attempting to survive without church, to a point of realizing God is in control, to a point of longing for church but knowing myself completely unsuited and unworthy and objectionable, to a final point of longing for death and seeking it openly to find the savor gone, to a point of desperately attending church regardless of the confusion and sense of completely not belonging, to a point of beginning to find comfort in scripture, to a revelation of my complete depravity and of Christ's complete loveliness, to a point of being stricken with the abject wickedness of sin unto a loathing of self for perpetuating sin, to a despondency in realization of the abject neediness which constitutes my total dependence upon Christ for all things, to the unexpected flaring of a violent indignation risen against the prior persistent scornful rejection of the knowledge of Christ as Lord in both my life and as is His true position in all the universe, pursuant to such abject surrender followed a point of wholly despising my own sin and seeking desperately to be delivered fully into the preciousness of Christ's salvation, followed by varied points of frustration in being confronted with sinfulness and having to surrender them unto further humility, followed by continued increasing dependence upon Christ as He continued to reveal Himself through others and through the Bible, accompanied by an unquenchable thirst for His inspired Word as recorded in Scripture, accompanied by an increasing sense of fulfillment and an increasing sense of joy in knowing Him, accompanied by an decreasing interest in all things of the world, accompanied by an increasing desire to know Him more fully as to be obedient and pleasing, followed by increasing revelation of sinfulness and abject surrender to His goodness for deliverance, unto many things likewise and fulfilling, including increasingly ardent points of abjectly desiring to bring others to know Him, increasing despair and grief at the knowledge of the lost, and increased petition on their behalf and as to be guided into how and when to intervene and with whom.

The first friend I'd wanted to share the Gospel with directly was someone who's ongoing conversation was a comfort throughout the loneliness which persisted prior to really coming to know the Lord...all the end of 2013, especially, we talked. Unto even loosely mentioning church, but never mentioning the Lord. He was one of the very small handful with whom communication was somewhat regular.
...but when everything changed, beginning with my hospitalization on January 1st of last year, I stopped talking to him as much. I hadn't yet come to a saving knowledge of Christ. I had continued to pray "the sinner's prayer" every time it was publicly shared, always feeling as though there was dire need to so do. But when I did finally receive a revelation of Christ which evidenced my sinfulness, driving one day...accompanied by a vision of Christ as so utterly precious and wonderful as that seeing Him completely devastated and made me desire Him with all within...when I did begin, then, to really know Him... ...this fellow, this friend of mine...periodically then kept returning to my mind.

But I didn't call him. I didn't contact him at all.

Because I was afraid to.

I didn't know what I would say, for one, because Christ had become all, and I knew that to speak to my friend would be to talk to him about Christ and about the work He'd already done in me (desire for alcohol, for instance...literally disappeared, despite a lingering fear of it...many things else were gradual, including the release of that particular fear). I just really longed to talk to my friend about the Lord, though, in the hope that he would receive a similar delivery from the persistent despondency and despair which so colored all his life. I just...I couldn't even begin to conceive of what to say to him.

And I just kind of loosely prayed in that weird sense that things were going, back then...just holding him up in thoughts, rather than asking anything or saying anything. Just holding him as precious and as a point of concern, in thoughts, but feeling completely incapacitated from doing anything else. Incapacitated by fear. By a feeling of complete ineptitude. And so I never did contact him, despite that he kept coming to mind.

Next heard, he'd had a heart attack, gone into a coma, and died within 24 hours.

So, now that the fear of talking to folks about Christ has again been forefront alongside deepening desire to just publicly proclaim Him along whatsoever courses open themselves... ...now that it's been told me to be a silent witness to the Lord, just "being there, being a Christian," my friend keeps coming to mind.

It took a couple of months to get to the point where I could even go revisit his Facebook. Tormenting thoughts, over how the opportunity to share the Lord had passed given fear of rejection and fear of inability and fear of using the wrong words and turning him even further from the Lord rather than to Him... ...so many thoughts. And just pleading with the Lord, that there was someone else, or that perhaps there was the knowledge of the Lord in my friend's childhood and in those last moments of consciousness, perhaps surrender to Him. Or over course of the brief coma.

I just pored over his photos for a while. Pleading with the Lord. Grieving not only the loss of his life, but the vast potential that he never did come to a saving knowledge of Christ. Just...I don't know. I know that God is good and just, and He will as always do as is right. That comforts me. Not in that it means that those who don't seek Jesus Christ will by any means evade the torment which is to come...but that God will have called all those who are His to Him, and all who refuse Him will be as their actions have placed them...experiencing God, while in rebellion, is sheer torment just because of the internal opposition. Just per course of who and how God is. Not even as an act...just as naturally comes, per being in opposition to Him...it burns...it is torment...raging torment...internal, even. Hatred consumes a person in bitterness, bitterness is torturous, itself. Think in terms of that, magnified exponentially. Someone or something loathed beyond all things else, then being showered attention by that point of internal contention...it utterly destroys a person, consumes with torment inescapable.

Think of it in those terms, too, as an alternate metaphor.

Inescapable bitterness unto hatred, magnified beyond comprehension, never ceasing. An all consuming rage which never yields to satisfaction nor to respite...never lessening...just all-consuming rage, mindless and horrendous, without any means of being met or satisfied...never exploding into a release, just eternally, exponentially building.

Living without Christ is living with that sort of rage against God in your heart. There's no release from it, except as to realize the depravity of one's own nature and throw self upon the mercy of Christ as to be transformed out of that rebellion, translated into a new creature, spiritually rebirthed.

Living with rage, period, is untenable.

But my friend. I don't know. I don't know whether he was. All I know is...I felt the need, I felt the desire to tell him...and I didn't, because I knew he would be offended and likely stop talking to me because I'd become "one of those people." One of the ones I used to mock, alongside him...even if not always in so many words, then still..there was a certain amount of derision even in the way I'd mentioned church to folks--always downplaying even the idea of it, as admittedly absurd and worthy of scorn. So it wasn't a witness. Despite the moments of respite experienced there. Despite the beginnings of truth's glimmer evidenced over the years.

I mocked the idea of Christianity, even in talking to people about the hope I found in church. Talking of it in terms of just "what works for me," equating it to how yoga works for others, and how therapy helps some. Literally have made those arguments to folks I know, when confessing to them that I'd been attending church and finding solace there. I made excuses for it.

And so I did with my friend who's gone, too. ...and, when I did come to a saving knowledge of Christ, even feeling the desire to talk with him about the truth there and the hope...I didn't, for fear. I thought I needed to strategize. I thought that...if I just give it some time, something will come to me about how to say to him that "Jesus Christ is actually, really God--Christians are right, even if they don't actually believe the stuff they're saying, themselves...the words are actually true...check out what He's done for me...what He is doing for me and in me. See that it's real. Talk to Him. Seek Him. He will respond. He promised He would answer those, be found by those, who sought Him with their whole heart and required Him as a necessity. And He did...I found Him...or, really, He revealed Himself to me. So, let go of your inhibitions. Throw your objections to the wind. Just do it. Go all out, just do it. Seek Him with everything in you. You will find Him. Period. Just don't stop seeking Him until you do find Him. Don't give up. It make take you six months...it may take you a day. I don't know. It took me four years. You might have a lot less baggage, though. But, then--it's in His hands, either way. Just...He is here. He knows your heart, and He will save those who truly call upon His name. I just...personally, I didn't used to know what the meaning of sincerity was, let alone how to really do anything sincerely. So He had to work in me. A lot. Seek Him. Just try. Hear these promises He's given us, and know it's true. Know He is real. Know it. Speak to Him. Pray. Call upon Him."

Something as that...I thought that if I just waited until I knew what I was doing...that he'd see the change and ask me about it, and I wouldn't have to step out on a limb at all. I was still thinking that it was sufficient to let my actions speak louder than my words. Because I didn't want to have to admit to people that I have a savior who's the Lord of my life and His name is Jesus Christ and He's alive and He's more real than you could even begin to comprehend.

Because that sounds completely insane, according to the world.

It sounded completely insane according to me, too. Which is why I fought just the idea of Christ for so very long, even. I mean, seriously...even with what stuff there is, as far as "research" and "history" and "logic" and all that...seriously...? Yeah, no. I didn't care. Yeah, I was willing to believe in all the things I could see manifest, even supernaturally, with my own eyes. I was willing to believe the experiences I'd had, so much of which defied explanation.

But I wasn't willing to believe Jesus Christ was actually, really, truly the Son of God...part of the triune Godhead...I was not willing to believe that, despite that He is real...I wasn't willing to believe that He really is real. Because it sounds absurd. And you'd have to be completely insane to believe such a thing. Like folks say, "a fairy godfather in the sky," sort of blasphemies. "You've got to be kidding me," all the day. I believed in Jesus in the same way that I believe in Europe, at one point prior to conversion, even...like, yeah--okay, so it is real, but it's all the way away from me..it's there, I'm here, and that's just fine...yeah, so they know about where I live, too? Okay, that's cool....like, maybe I'll send a postcard, or something...I mean, I've read about Europe and heard folks talk about being there, so I totally believe it exists...way over there, though. Because anything more is just ridiculous.

It was always fine to talk about Jesus in church, yeah--same as folks talked about football, or a movie, or going out to eat. He was just a concept. And that's all I'd heard. Still, much of what I hear.

This world thrives on concepts. We eat them up as though each new one is the one which will be the answer which brings everything into complete order. Same as most folks witness, as I used to witness...if I show them that I can do stuff, and be calm, and have peace, and be loving in some way which makes it apparent that I'm "different," then they'll want to know my operating principles so as to be able to adapt them for their own use as to survive and thrive in this world.

People don't need another concept, though. They don't need another set of principles by which to live. We need a living God...THE ONLY LIVING GOD...to guide us and to protect us and to love us and show us how to live. And telling people about Jesus only after they have seen me weather something which is "normal" (which, unbeknownst to them, would have prior to conversion absolutely had me in the hospital 10 times over by now) with only a minor meltdown, whereas they're kind of laughing and shaking their head that I wasn't able to handle that small amount of "life turbulence"...yeah...that totally is going to make folks think "Christianity is where it's at." They'll laugh, same as I used to. They'll scoff.

Same as I did.

Same as folks always have.

How is it that folks have completely lost sight of how totally esoteric and utterly mystical and absolutely supernatural a true, living relationship with Christ is, according to the world's standards? How is it that people who do actually know Christ think that there's a way to talk people into all of a sudden believing in something which literally goes against everything within them? The Lord does use that sort of a thing with folks...He does certainly use apologetics and theology and sound doctrine as a means of drawing people to Him...but, ultimately, it's not about any of those things. It's about the work of the Holy Spirit. And, please...if you've been able to teach the Holy Spirit a few things about how to go about saving folks--let me know?...so I can pray for you.

I mean, seriously...folks talk about revival in terms of methodology. They talk about the need for salvation, about a "burden for souls," and about "having a good witness," but where is the leading of God, in terms of all that planning? Why is the thought of being led by the Holy Spirit such a disdainful notion, even to believing Christians?

WITH discernment, y'all. The Scripture is ALL about that. The Lord told us to be wary of the spirits.

Not just of the preachers. Not just of the prophets. Not just of the folks on the side of the road.

...wary of the spirits.

How can you do that, without acknowledging the physical manifestation of the work of such things...without acknowledging they're actually there and doing things? Not to just up and devote study to "spirits," because we had ought be innocent of even the knowledge of evil's mechanisms...
...but we are to be led by the Holy Spirit. So, if I'm going to be led by Him, I certainly have to know Him.

And in order to know someone, I kind of am obligated to actually acknowledge their presence.

So, if there is all that "spiritual stuff" going on, as to even require that we "test the spirits"...

...how do you go about that, when you're entirely focused on living according to the standards of the physical world? Personally, I'd rather know God, know Christ, be led of the Holy Spirit...as it's an option now, rather than something far distant, after death...and given that--for those of us who believe in Christ, know Him in any capacity as who He truly is--God is sovereign.. Given that nothing happens except through or by God's will...I think I'd kind of rather be concerned with what He'd have me do, than with what the world purports is necessary, even as interpreted by others who know God to some extent.

Especially given that this is the only peace I've ever know. And it's the first time in nearly 20 years whereby there's not been a persistent desire to die, entailing plans/actions toward that end. There's hope, there's peace, there's a sense of (yeah, completely open-ended) purpose, and there's just...love.

So, I'm not going to forsake that to chase things which aren't ordained for me. I'll let the Lord lead me. And I'll continue to learn, even sometimes the hard way...and I'll still fail Him, time to time, and He'll yet keep me and prevent me from utterly failing.

Just...I'm not, and have not in a very long time been blameless in the eyes of the world. I could be CEO of a corporation, but proclaiming Christ would just be considered an eccentricity then, rather than the defining characteristic of my person. So long as you conform to the world according to their major concerns (money, prestige, intelligence, beauty, possession of order), they'll allow for perceived foibles. But they won't pay any attention to them either, generally. No matter what they are. Literally, folks have gotten caught in and gone unpunished for murder, just for the fact of fame and wealth.

Then, on the other hand, you've got folks like John the Baptist...whom Jesus called the greatest man...who lived in the desert, eating off the land...proclaiming Christ's coming. And he ended up in prison for speaking the truth.

And was it Paul who was burned at the stake, or...he was beheaded, wasn't he?

I've never quite comprehended the bits in Timothy where it talks about folks holding office in the church needing to be folks who had good reputations amongst the unsaved. I mean...you wouldn't want someone who went around kicking dogs...and we are to make peace when and where possible...but the Commission is to go and make disciples, knowing that we'll be persecuted by the world. The world rejected Christ, it will reject us, on the same terms.

Not to be obnoxious, either, though...but to be led of the Spirit into doing howsoever, whensoever, whatsoever. In love. Then, yet being persecuted and mocked and despised.

I've just yet to be able to reconcile that experience with the expectation that the world will somehow yet admire. A disciple is not to expect greater than his master. The world ultimately rejected Christ and considered Him untenable. If I am to follow Christ, be led by Him, and be obedient to His calling... ...how can I also seek to satisfy the world?

Very conflicted over this.

Over the idea of being a "silent witness." And all it entails. Be someone the world starts to look up to, so then they try to find ways to emulate?

The picture I stopped with on my friend's page...I just continually have to surrender to the Lord, because there's nothing that can be known...the pain of conviction...the grief of loss...the pain of conviction for opportunity willfully ignored, despite prompting... ...he was holding a coffee mug with "I <3 Jesus," smiling lightly mockingly, yet somewhat abashedly with his head bowed.

I just can't get that picture out of my head, thinking of attempting to stop ardently desiring to speak of the Lord to everyone and anyone, as led and empowered, despite the terror of so doing.