145 days stroke free: Spiritually Bankrupt

Faith is one of those things that is often not talked about for many reasons.  One is that others may not subscribe to religious followings.  The other is that you risk fellow Brothers and Sisters in Christ because you’ve made a statement about faith that is wrong in thier eyes.  Any number of reactions can be had but it’s usually the first one that crops up.

My faith has been with me since I was born.  Parents are Christians.  It was in our daily life all through the opening chapters of our existance.  Mind you, I made the choice to give my heart and soul over to Jesus at my own time.  My parents were very careful with that and it has led me to do the same with kids I deal with in life and ministry.

All though life I have questioned, considered and contemplated God.  Who is He?  What is He?  Why is He?  And what in the world does He want with me, of all people?  I will not lie to you.  I have had my doubts.  I have wondered if He’s really out there.  I’ve often thought my prayers must be on some voicemail near the Pearly Gates somewhere.  This stroke brought more of those ideas and thoughts to near Backdraft intensity.

Over the last four months since The Event (April 7th) I have gone back and forth on God.  Why did He do this?  What higher flippin’ (except in my mind I used a tougher vulgarity, sorry Mom) purpose does he have for this little life called Aaron?  Is there a lesson in the daily struggle of pain, depression and frustration?  Can there really be any reason to keep this mad charade of Faith up?

Believe me, I’ve been to the front of the Alter to the back of the hall with this one.  After the stroke I found myself without a church for various reasons and have largely avoided church since.  Part of it has been the long labored time I have spent in said Church.  There are so many things I have found within the Body of Christ that litererally send me into a tizzy (even a stroke if that joke can be made..zing!).

And now after all this I cannot find, muster, cajole or otherwise convince myself that it is indeed time to return to the House of God.  There are many feelings I can take and toss around like juggling balls in an attempt to see if they’re tied into all this.  Being lonely, working the hours I do and other factors compound into this great ball of “GUH!”.  And it is that massively twisted ball that sits on either side of my shoulders.

And yet other times it’s lifted in a moment of levity when I (yes, prepare yourselves) am able to smile and laugh in a moment of enjoying life.

People who read this probably think I’m whining, complaining and moaning about my situation.  Partly true.  The other part is this is where I have my release and let loose moment with myself.  I put my feelings into words and throw them up on a website to show what it’s like living with someone that hasn’t been you for the last 26 years.  Learning to live with that is part of the struggle.

Understanding yourself in the middle of it is another.  And plodding your way out is the constant journey I make every morning, noon and night.  I am not a man of constant sorrow as this blog seems to sometimes make me out to be.  I am a man alive and driving full steam.  I will stumble.  I’ll drop things and curse my left side.

But I’ll keep going.  And keep writing.  Because it is only through that and close friends can you ever hope to surive these things.

Stroke free at 145 days…and planning on keeping it that way.  And yes, I know.  Halfway through I broke off the God talk and went down another path.  I’ll get the second half of the God stuff start of next week.  Happy Labor Day everybody!