donttellmykidsiblog.com
I've had my share of rough times (nothing bad compared to some), and I live in a continent of corruption, crime, and instability. I also have a great family, job, security, and even a dog. I like to think about things. I want to know the rational basis for who I am and why I am. And I like to write about it because it helps me focus and brings clarity. So when I stumbled on a blog entry (here) that was titled "Going crazy? ... just write" I clicked through to read because it resonated with me. What I found was a raw reality of someones courage that, on the one hand is trivial compared to many on this continent, and on the other hand was a deep and real experience that puts all intellectual thinking on the back burner. Because what happens to an individual is that individual's personal struggle ... it doesn't matter that others have less or worse trials, that individual still has to deal with all the personal trauma. Reading the blog was a reality check for me ... experience trumps theory, Jesus is there in the midst of all things, and we're not as clever as we think we are when we try reason matters away. However much I try and reason about facts and philosophies, I cannot deny experience, I cannot ignore a persons story. There is my story, there is your story. We can reason till the cows come home, but we cannot change our experience. Sometimes stories intersect and we can share strength and courage. Sometimes we feel no one has read our story. But there is another story that intersected mine, its the biggest story of all time. It's rational and inexplicable, and has made my story joy-full until that day when I am fully what I was created to be.
1 Comment
Thank you for this because it also puts my thoughts and feelings into perspective. Last night as I drove by two homeless men, as I was stopped at a traffic lights, I called over to them to give them some money. At that very moment the light changed and the drivers behind me started honking angrily, leaning on their horns, and I did have the thought, " I'm still here if I'm still feeling deeply for these homeless people and wanting to flip the middle finger to the people behind me." It was a reality check on many much needed levels. Your writing is so thoughtful, and makese want to read more.
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Why?
Probably the best therapy is to express yourself. Why do you think psychiatrists make you lie on the couch and talk, while all they do is murmur "hmmm", "uhuh", or "go on"? Archives
May 2017
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