Crazy Life: My Testimony, Part IV

It was almost like a Twilight Zone® experience, seeing Angela and my brother-in-law, Charles, for the first time in about three to four months. It was as if I’d been somehow severed from my past life. This was necessary, I believe, in order to begin healing and growing stronger mentally, emotionally, spiritually… Mind you, I was very glad to see my eldest sister and her husband; it’s just that it was like some tidal wave washing over me from my previous existence.

Sitting in the small chapel area of the Samson Group Home on that Saturday morning, I found it somewhat difficult finding anything to say. The ensuing conversation was a bit stilted, but happy nonetheless, and, to my surprise, my sister actually said I looked better … stronger, more relaxed, with good complexion. Her appraisal made me feel good and added to the sense of hope that had been growing inside me over the past weeks in my new residence. Evidently she could see something outwardly that I felt inwardly.

She hadn’t called or visited before in order to give me time to really settle in and begin my psychological recovery. I completely understood. I needed the time in that safe, secure, and structured environment apart from the outside world, and I needed this because, quite frankly, I couldn’t handle “life as usual.” I could no longer shoulder life as it had been — hours upon hours behind closed doors in self-imposed isolation, deep depression, fear, mania, frustration and anger, strained relationships… 

I had been living to write, which was my love and passion, but even this had become an unbearable strain. Consequently, I’d started to keep a journal shortly after I arrived at the group home, but quickly had to leave off on that simply because it caused to much anxiety … or, at least, it was one contributing factor. I’d also loved to read, but after moving into my new residence I found that I just could not bring myself to open a book. Even the very thought of reading felt burdensome … stressful. 

Yes, sitting there in the little chapel area, looking at my dear sister, carrying on an enjoyable (however stilted) conversation … it all felt so surreal. I wish I had words to explain just how detached from the past I’d become. I suppose it was as if I’d entered into some kind of cocoon, and maybe I had; after all, the cocoon is where the beautiful butterfly grows. And in a very real sense, I would eventually emerge from that cocoon, splendidly reborn … heartier, braver, sober-minded and far more tranquil.

Of course, my emergence from the cocoon would come much later. During that first visit with my sister and brother-in-law I couldn’t imagine ever leaving the group home. This is not to say I wanted to stay there for the rest of my life. No, I deeply desired to leave at some point in the future… I just couldn’t conceive of that actually happening. As I sat there looking at my sister’s radiant smile, listening to her encouraging words, it felt like I was looking and listening from across a great ravine … one without a bridge.

After about an hour, we hugged and said our goodbyes. Despite feeling somewhat detached, I was very grateful for the visit, and my spirit felt lifted. All in all, it was a very good (and important) experience. Really and truly, it came at just the right time. Looking back now, I can actually see God’s hand in that event. One might even say it was divinely orchestrated. At the very least, it was a taste of the outside world that I needed then, even if I didn’t consciously realize that at the time.

The next time Angela came, she came alone and took me on an outing, but before getting to that, I’d like to introduce you to some of the precious souls in what really became (in many ways) my new family. Until then, blessings to you and peace.


For previous articles in this series, go to:

Crazy Life: My Testimony, Part I

Crazy Life: My Testimony, Part II

Crazy Life: My Testimony, Part III

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Plea to My Son: Wisdom Living

So many times in life I thought I knew what was best
And I wore the vest of pride in stride with arrogance,
And I tried with all of my might to make it all so right
Only to fall into the dark night of the soul with a hole
In my heart and my mind bound against sound reason,
Collapsing into an awful season of tumultuous unrest,
And all the while there were blessings untold for me
That I could just barely see in the distance but would
Not touch in my insistence to forge ahead with plans
Of my own that were sown in isolation and darkness;
And, oh, how I wish now that I could go back and bow
To sense and sensibility, to rewrite my past in lasting
Joy and peace with a new lease on life . . . but no, son,
This I cannot do and so I sue myself in the court of life
So rife with pain and such little gain from such insane
Decisions and I hold my history in derision, my child;
So I say to you, do not walk the same path I’ve walked,
But be sober-minded and clear-headed and do pray
Before you say what you think you want and then leap
Without looking! Read the book of your own father
To learn and burn not with zeal but hear without fear
Wise counsel offered and open your eyes to see gifts
Already bestowed in your life and do not thrown away
What has been so freely given to enliven your fantasy!
Sense and sensibility under the cover of prayer, my son;
Take the higher and better road; yes, the better road!

A Place Called Home

Setting your pace within your very own place
Known to you as home, where seeds are sown
In assurety of the security of your safe haven,
A place you do not have to hide in craven fear,
Where you can freely visit those near and dear,
Somewhere dry and warm where you fly high
And no longer have to try to smile a mile wide
Or hide how you feel, and kneel down in peace
With a new lease on life; after all you’re home
. . .
Setting your pace within your very own place
Somewhere dry and warm where you fly high

Home

Home . . . a place to call my own
Where in secret dreams are sown

A bed where to lay my head
And find the best rest for my body weary

A table where to eat my daily bread
After thankful prayer is said

Home . . . where ideas are freely sought
Home . . . where there is liberty of thought

Safe and secure from all alarm
Walled in securely from all harm

Far above and beyond mere survival
Home . . . where there is daily revival

Home . . . where God is ever so near
And there is no need for fear

Home . . . where there is the heart
And of life every best part . . . home

Cry for Me Crying for You

Ah! My love! Cry for me crying for you
So emotionally bruised and confused;
You have been used and misused now
For so long you think it’s where you belong,
But how wrong you are! O sing a new song!
Take my tears and wash your face
And embrace a brand new reality
In finality of chasing what is base!
Ah! My dear! You pull tears from my eyes
As I spy him round every corner, lurking,
Knowing he’s bound to hurt you yet again
But you can’t see the sin ‘n you never win!
Oh my God, my God! You call his hate love
And I cry above to every angel who’ll hear
To steer you away from this dark delusion
And I know they care but can they repair?
Can they repair the damage already done
Under sun, moon and stars so far away?
No! No! You pop his pill
And then lay so very still
To bask in sleepy fantasy
To mask a very real pain!
What do you gain, then, save stain of guilt
And remorse ‘cause you took that course?
O can you not see and finally be free?
Or do you rather enjoy your chains?
Are you so insane that
You’ve slain your heart?
Ah! My love! Cry for me crying for you
So emotionally bruised and confused!
Cry for me crying for you to be so true,
So true to yourself to finally be free . . .
Ah! My love! Cry for me crying for you


Note: It must have been a better month for me than I knew at the time. Here is another poem previously published in November 2016, being republished now due to some renewed interest as well as for the enjoyment of new reader-followers. (And I’m very thankful to say that quite a few folks have decided to follow this blog just over the last few weeks! Thank you!)

Oh Sister! Needless Complexity in Life

Profusion of confusion
Complexity of perplexity
Exclusion of conclusion

And you feel wired and tired at the same time
And you feel cheery and weary at the same time

Ignoring the real-time life crisis
Trying psychological zymolysis
Result is your psychic cytolysis

And you are in a turmoil
Your brain about to boil
From the truth you recoil

But . . . this is your life, so rife with pain, no gain,
And this is your choice to ignore your inner voice,
So what am I to say? This is certainly not my way!
I truly do love you and wish you all the best
And eventually, one day, peace and rest . . .
One day, some way
Someday, I do pray