Month: February 2011

……….We’re so glad you could attend..come inside….. Come inside….

Karnevil 9. Sometimes it feels apropos to me, and is a really good song by Emerson, Lake and Palmer.

Why apropos, you may ask? Because when I blog, I blog about the good things in my head, mostly. I don’t much give you a glimpse into the bad things knocking around in the ol’ noggin. That is counter productive to my recovery, and no fun reading for you.

But, lately, I have had thoughts I can not ignore. Now, before I go any further, I want you to know this post is not a finger pointing session, or a gripe session. This is simply me expressing some of my thoughts.

I recently had a conversation with an old friend. When I was in the hospital he came to visit me. I remember the visit, and some of the conversation. I was still riding the effects of coma drugs like a bucking bronco, so I was loopy. I said some weird things, I know. I was in real bad physical shape, as well.

My old friend told me in our conversation he never came back to visit again because he couldn’t stand to see me like I was. I totally understand. But, he did come to visit once, and I am so glad for that.

That recent conversation got me thinking a bit deeper. You know, none of us like going to funerals, for a lot of reasons. We don’t like to see the pain of our friends or loved ones who survive the loss. We don’t want to say that final farewell. For me, and I am sure a lot of you if you cared to admit it, it is also the thought some day that might be me, or one of my loved ones that wake is being thrown for.

I wonder if that is the same premise behind the reason I don’t get many visitors. Is the thought of seeing me, legs gone and hand a mess, too much of a reminder of man’s frailty and mortality?

I have long since discovered that the looks I can get out in public are not just pity. When I catch someone staring at me and see guilt on their face, I understand. We all feel a certain amount of guilt when we think “I am so glad that ain’t me sitting in that wheelchair.” I personally have felt that guilt. While I was in the hospital in Madisonville, I was told of a poor young woman who had her legs and BOTH hands amputated. I felt so guilty thinking I was glad I still had what I had.

So, I know what it is like to have that “glad it ain’t me” feeling, as well.

Still, I know what I am now is hard to think about for some. I myself sometimes, in darker moments in my head, think of myself as a carnival side show attraction. “Come one, come all! Come see the bearded lady! Come see the two headed cow! Come see the legless man!”

It isn’t pretty, but not all my thoughts are. Do I remind people of their own mortality? Do I make them feel guilty for being glad it isn’t them in my chair? I wonder. I really do.

This whole situation has changed my view on life, and has had lots of new thoughts floating in the morass of my mind.

Case in point: romantic relationships. It is going to be harder for me to find one, with the way I am now. Wait! I know what you are going to say. There is some one out there for me, right? Consider this and flip it over in your own mind to ponder. If you had the option of two different people to date, both having similar qualities, but one happened to have no legs and only one good hand……. Don’t lie to yourself, or me. You know that would make a difference.

Imagine spending the rest of your life with someone with my disabilities. On bad days you would have to prepare and bring meals in bed. Empty bedside urinals. Possibly help with a bed pan. As time progressed and that person aged, using prosthetic legs would become harder, and a wheelchair would be the only option. Imagine being in your later years and helping that person to just go to the bathroom. Lugging that chair around and dragging it in and out of the car for out of the house trips. Pushing that chair around.

Be honest. Don’t lie to yourself. This is what might eventually happen to some woman that got into a relationship with me. That is commitment that most people don’t have anymore. I have seen marriages fall apart over snoring. Really……

I am getting a little off point, here, aren’t I?

I have to tell you, since I have been home I have been amazed at the people who have came to visit me. Of course, my good friends from Evansville come to see me often on their way to the lakes. But the others….

The others that have come to visit, they were the ones that never once made a promise to come visit. They just stopped by. And I was so glad for the company, let me tell you. But I was mostly glad to know that things hadn’t changed. They thought they could just stop on by without a call ahead, because I was the same person I have always been.

Yea, I am different in a physical sense, but I am still the same person, mostly, inside my head. Now, here is the part where I really want to emphasize again that this is not meant as a guilt trip post. Because it is not. I promised myself I would be honest with myself, and you, my readers when I started this blog. That is all this next part is.

So, don’t be guilty as you read ahead, I am not pointing fingers.

Everybody is great over on my facebook page. I get well wishes and comments all the time. I get PMs and emails as well. All upbeat, all happy. These things are so easy. I don’t see any faces when I read emails. I don’t see any pity in the PMs. It is all so personal and impersonal all at the same time.

I have had so many of my friends tell me they are going to stop by to say hello, but never have. I am ok with that. I understand. There is work, there are family obligations. Weekends are meant for catching up on chores not done during the week, and spending time with your family.

I understand. The thought of seeing me is great, and telling me is even better. I understand as well that the thought of seeing me in a chair, or with prosthetic legs may just be more than you can handle. What would you say? What if I caught you staring at my hand? Would I be offended? Would seeing me remind you of your own mortality? Would you feel guilty for being whole while I sat there now incomplete?

The answer to most of those questions would be yes, save one. No, I would not be offended. You would be surprised at what it takes to offend me anymore. I have learned to be very humble since this has happened to me.

But anyway, yes. I understand. I know deep down inside some might see me as that carnival attraction. In the carnival, you don’t have to feel guilt. You can let those feelings of amazement, and possibly horror, cross your face. In the carnival all bets are off. Anything goes and you can stare away at the things you wouldn’t in any other situation.

You don’t have to feel guilty about being normal and whole at the carnival.

Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends, were so glad you could attend….

Come inside, come inside…..

Ok, so, we all know it has been a big day for me. I am tired and now stretched out in bed and relaxing. The folks have gone to take the kiddo home and I have some Norah Jones cooing softly from the iPad.

Yeah, I like Norah, get over it!

Any who, so, quiet house, relaxing tunes…. Time for a book!

I thought I might tell you about some of my favorite reads and authors, if you are inclined to know. If not, sorry Charlie!

My folks put books in my hand from a very early age. One of the first books I ever remember reading was Stephen King’s The Shining. Mom, of course, had gone through and read it first, and blacked out all the bad words! I have honestly have read very few of Mr Kings’s novels. I am told he writes an awesome fantasy series, but I just have never gotten into it. I did read Dreamcatcher long before it was made into a not very great movie, but the book was darn good.

I generally stick to fantasy novels. Sword and sorcery, or vampires and werewolves on Triumph motorcycles with the Sidhe and fey folk mixed in.

You can’t talk fantasy without the staples. Tolkien and Lewis. Trust me, if you have never read The Lord of the Rings, go pick the trilogy up! The movies were great, but I read those when I was like twelve or so. I am still mad Peter Jackson left out Tom Bombadil from the first movie! Here, hobbits, these swords are for you……

Yea right! Like that is how it really happened! I wonder how many people just did a google search in a new tab or window, wondering what I am talking about? I bet my buddy Pooh Bah and my brother Wes agree that Jackson is a tool for leaving out ‘ol Tom. Ok, bet you are really googling now! Don’t! Read the books, instead.

There is nothing like getting lost in a volume from Tolkien, let me tell you. Go read The Hobbit- there and back again, before the movie gets done and put in theaters, you will thank me for it.

And as for CS Lewis…. He has written some greats, as well. Narnia ring a bell? Go read it! I doubt they will make any more of those movies, so go see how that story ends. For that matter, see how the story begins! Ever wonder how that wardrobe transported them, or why there was a lamp post out in the middle of the woods? I know, and I ain’t tellin’! Go find out. Seriously, parents, those are great for kids and adults, alike. If your a Christian, you can see the Christian and Godly theme much easier in the books. Check ’em out!

Oh, wow….. Norah just started singing “Turn me on,” and man, that girl can rip one out! Kinda jazzy, kinda blues-ey, that is a great song. Makes me wanna……..

Um….. Moving on, then…..

So, for some other great classics, I would suggest Piers Anthony. He has written literally hundreds of novels, but some really pun-ney….. Um, excuse me, I mean funny.(inside joke if you have never read the Xanth series by him) The Xanth series is pretty much all kid friendly, and very fun reads. For a darker, more thought provoking, yet still fun series by him, try out The Incarnations of Immortality. Very good reads! (right, Pooh?)

Some other great sword and sorcery authors, and books, are:

Tad Williams- The Dragonbone Chair series…. I have literally read that trilogy three times! Great stuff!

George RR Martin- Song of Ice and Fire series. Great reads, but very long reads. I think HBO is doing a TV show based on them, now. Jon Snow is my favorite character in that series, with the Bastard Dwarf Prince running a close second.

Recently my younger brother turned me on to Glen Cook. He writes a series called Black Company. I just finished like a ten book series about the Black Company in about a month. Hey, I have time on my hands! What can I say?

If you like vamps and wolves, I have some good suggestions, as well. I am sure we have all seen or heard of the True Blood series on HBO, right? Great show, much better books. They are worlds apart, really. A lot of skin is shown on TV, but in the books, it is not like that. Ms Sookie does not much kiss and tell in the books by Charlaine Harris.

Let me get on a soap box for a minute….

I have started some great series in the urban fantasy genre, and then was irate that I couldn’t even finish them! Great example… The Anita Blake vampire series. First few books were good, a little randy at times, but tolerable. You get sucked in to the story, then, BAMMO!

It goes all soft core porn on you. I put the series down when the author had the main character, Anita Blake, involved in an orgy with a pack of were panthers in a back of a limo. For. Three. Chapters! Really, three chapters of it. Geez, I don’t mind a bit ‘o randy now and again, but get real.

The same author did the same thing in the Merideth Gentry series. Except the main character had her orgy in her bedroom for one chapter with a bunch of fairie men. I won’t pick up that novelist’s books anymore. Honestly.

So, off the soap box and moving on….

Roger Zelazny(RIP) did a heck of a great old school urban fantasy series, The Amber series of books. They were never fully completed, I don’t think, because of his untimely death, but wow, great stuff, nonetheless. He once wrote a novel called Bring Me the Head of Prince Charming, that was a fun read!

The author Kim Harrison does great vamp and wolf urban fantasy, and does not go all soft core porn on you. It is The Hollows series. It took her like eight books before she ever wrote a sex scene, and it was only like a page and a half. I swear! Well, at least as far as I can remember, anyway….lol (Jenny, I will try to remember to get those to you, like I said I would 🙂

So, there is a short jaunt into my long library of reading. I hope you found some gems, because they are all priceless to me!

You know, when you don’t post a blog for a few days, people start wondering why….. Well, nothing much to report….

I am kind of in limbo. Floating in the aether, waiting on my legs to get here. They were shipped late in the day on Tuesday. I didn’t get a tracking number, so I don’t know what the status is. Bummer.

So, here I float, waiting, and waiting and waiting….

I got a start yesterday, when a delivery guy showed up, but he was just delivering a set of gloves I had ordered. Those of you who have ridden mountain bikes with me will probably remember my love affair with Specialized brand gloves. Thin, soft, supple, and really grippy!

Well, I ordered a new pair. I wanted to be able to stuff the fingers with pillow stuffing. You know, so it looks like my fingers are there. When you go out in public as I am, that is the first thing people look at, even before my legs. You might think wanting to hide my hand is silly, after all the things I have written about. Well, I can’t tell who has read what, and I can’t see the looks on your face when you read it.

So, your anonymous to me. The kids in the shopping carts at wal mart, though, aren’t. Their open mouth stares kinda freak me out. The looks everyone get on their face when they see my legs is pity, I can understand that. The looks of near horror at my hand, though…

Don’t get me wrong. My hand looks really good for what it is. You can hardly tell where the suture lines and surgery scars are at. Warren Briedenbach is one of the best hand plastic surgeons out there. He did a good job. My hand is all smooth skin. But still, I get the looks.

Anyway, so I wanted to fill the fingers, right? I asked mom if she had any pillow stuffing, as she is a wiz at sewing, and has all kinds of supplies. No, she didn’t think so, but would go look. There I am, sitting at my desk, cutting wire to make a shape for my non existent finger and thumb, when mom comes back and says she may have just enough to fill the fingers.

I look up, and she has a kitchen trash bag overflowing with the stuff! That bag was bigger than me… Just, enough, aye, Mom?

Any who, I got my glove done.

Ever play angry birds? I have it on my iPad. My brother and sister in law came for a visit, and I got her addicted. Shooting those silly birds from a slingshot at pigs is kinda fun. I try not to play very often, because I can get sucked into a vortex and find myself three hours later still playing!

Anyway, as we sat there at the kitchen table taking turns, I came to a realization….. Angry birds is good therapy for my left hand. Using it to pull back that sling shot on the screen actually loosened up my hand and fingers. I wonder if I can get insurance to pay for the super eagle upgrade? I mean, it’s therapy, right? 😉

And on to other things… There is a chair in my folks living room that has been my bane since I got home. It is the first chair I got into when I got home from the hospital, and it is leather with an ottoman. It took me ten minutes to get out of it back into my wheel chair that first time. I almost didn’t make it, even with a slide board! Freaking chair!

So, the other night I joined the family in the living room to watch TV. Into that chair I got. No problem. I have progressed quite a lot with wheel chair transfers since I got home. This leather chair is not as slippery as the leather couches. So, after an evening of television, moving back and forth in that chair to stay comfortable, I got rubbed raw, on my tail bone!

Still that chair is my bane! Argh! I can’t lay down flat right now because, essentially, I have a freaking bed sore on my hind end. I can get in and out of that leather chair no
Problem now, but it still got me! That chair is just evil…… Freaking chair!

Well, that is about it for this blog, not really much, I know, but hey, not much to report!

I am sure that most of you have known someone, either disabled, elderly, or whatever that has had and used a shower or bath chair. Most of them are little curved seats that sit in the bottom of the tub or shower, and that is just what they tell you to do when your like me.

Let me tell you, it is just a bummer! The shower that my folks set up for me in the bathroom they made for me (yea, my folks are great. While I was in the hospital they remodeled a bathroom into a wheelchair friendly bathroom for me. Did I mention that they are great? You can see that bathroom in one of my videos) is a nice shower. I have a really nice shower chair they got for me. It has a backrest, is slides back and forth and locks in place. A quick plug for the place we got it from, Thrifty pharmacy and home medical in Providence, KY. Tom and the gang up there are great people. Go spend some money with them, you won’t be disappointed with the service!

Wow, I get off track easy, don’t I?

So, anyway, in my shower my folks put one of those shower head on a flex pipe thing so I can hold it in my hand while in my shower chair. Let me tell you, this makes for a totally non enjoyable shower experience! You know after a hard day, or a tough morning when it is hard to wake up, that nice hot shower wakes you up or eases away the pain in those tired muscles?

Try sitting in a chair, worried about slipping off into the floor, when you have no feet. And that’s another thing. I say I have no legs, but of course I do. Mostly I have no feet and calves. Off track again…. Argh! So, in the chair, only one hand with fingers to grip. Here is my shower experience.

Hose my body down, then set the spray head aside…

Lather up with soap….

Hose my body off, trying to get my hind in and everything else while sitting in a chair that I could slip off of…..

Pick up the nozzle again…..

Lather, rinse, repeat…..

I can’t just sit under the hot spray and let it wash my worries and else away like everybody else. When I lather and wash, no spray for me. I get cold while washing, damn it!

Well, I say can’t, but after yesterday, it’s couldn’t. The great people that did my physical therapy taught me to use and get on/off a shower chair into a TUB. We have two step in showers in the house, one of them in my bathroom, the other one in my folks bathroom. So, you know I can get around on the floor, right? Walking on my knees with knee pads, crawling on hands and knees, right?

Yea, you guessed it.!

I had a great freaking shower yesterday! I hands and knees my way into mom and dad’s shower yesterday. I couldn’t reach the shower knob, so mom had to turn on the water for me, but everything else was great! This shower is a tub length shower stall. I could stretch out and enjoy that wonderful spray. No holding the shower nozzle, no getting cold while I washed up, no worrying about falling out of a damn chair while I am trying to wash my hind end whilst sitting down.

I lay there on the floor of that shower, back leaned against the wall with all my muscles relaxed. I was as loose as a rag doll. I shampooed my hair like three freaking times! I am sure there was eye rolling in the house, as I was oohing and ahhing and singing the praises of flowing water as I lay there. Relaxed….. In a shower…. For the first time in four months!

It was in that moment, better than sex. Not as good as sex IN the shower, but you know what I mean, right?

I had to holler at mom a time or two to have her come and turn the hot water up. She would slide the door open enough to snake her hand in and turned that blessed nozzle. I sat in that shower until I ran all the hot water out of the entire house. Did I say it was great!?!?

Only one problem, though. The drain was right underneath me! I would have to check the height of the water, and upon occasion lift one leg or the other to let the water swirl down the drain….

Oh well, nothing is ever perfect!

I am going to ask dad to modify my shower so the flexy nozzle thingy can hang on the wall low, so I can sit in my shower and let the spray be at chest height!

If you can stand in your own shower (yeah, Jennifer, I am totally jealous of Clint’s catfish leg!) be thankful. Next time you step in, adjust the nozzle so it sprays away from you. Step in the spray, then out to wash. Get cold while doing it, then step back in the spray for a quick rinse than out again. You will get an idea what those who have challenges go through. And then be thankful.

If you are a challenged person, such as myself, get some one to help you out. If you have a step in shower where you live, try it. It is better than sex!

Rocky and bulwinkle reference in the title there……lol

Jodi just inspired me to write this after a FB comment she just left me. Props to her.. Reading enjoyment for you, aye?

When you live the life I now live, you have to have a sense of humor. So read on about the things I feel are hilarious about me now, and don’t you dare feel bad about laughing about poor lil ol’ handicapped me. 😀

First things first. The politically correct term for my cut extremities is “residual limbs”. Say it once or twice… Doesn’t really roll off the tongue like stumps does, does it? I am talking with my prosthetist (which, by the way I cant get to roll off of my tongue, so I call him my leg guy.. Try it out.. Leg guy is way easier, huh?) while getting fitted about the pc term. So he tells me while he was in school many moons ago they were really pushing the whole residual limb thing. A guy in his class, though, just couldn’t get it. He always said residual STUMPS… Hahahaha

Ok, so I think that is funny, anyway. Moving on.

All the goodies in our house reside atop our very tall and very nice fridge. Now, I am in a wheel chair, you dig? Now, I don’t want to name names, but someone in the house puts all the cookies, potato chips, pringles, (which are my favorite, btw) etc. Up there. Well, I won’t just name the name… But I will spell it backwards, and if you are crafty, which I know my readers are, you will figure it out. Here we go, backwards… M-O-M

Ok, no names named, right? Anyway, so there I am in the house, wanting to pop a top on my favorite snack, and they are on the top of the freaking fridge!!! The woman is just so cruel! I can see them, I just can’t reach them. So, I have this reacher thingy, and let me just say, it doesn’t grip pringles cans for nothing…. Ever been hit in the head with a pringles can? No fun. But at least I got my pringles. She is the pringles Nazi, really…. 🙂

Another thing you might think about. Flatulation (sp?). So, again I am in a chair, remember? Now at what height does that put my head, more importantly, my nose!?!? People drop air bombs and I am directly in the path of destruction! I can’t roll away fast enough, and then it tries to follow me! I experienced this several times in wal mart recently.

Hey that’s a really good price on…..

Sniff…. Sniff…… EEEEWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOO…… Roll, away… Roll away….

ARGH! It is following me to the housewares department!

Or, just rolling along and bam, right into one that is lurking behind an innocent stand of DVDs in electronics. Geez, wal mart shoppers, lay off all the high fiber and beans. Buy some gas-x, would ya?

Oh, and on the reacher thingy again… Ever try to pick up an ice cube off a new hardwood floor with one? I chased that damn cube across the floor for five minutes before I finally got it into the sink… I think I heard it softly crying “help me…. Help me… I’m melting…” serves the thing right, evading my grasp and making me feel like a fool…. Lol

Here is something you haven’t thought of. Ok, so I don’t have an index finger on my left hand anymore, right? And also, what’s left of my middle finger just tends to stick up straight if I am not thinking about it. Now, the muscles that controlled my index finger are still there, and I can flex them. So I can curl my non existent index finger up, leaving the middle one standing high and proud, and you don’t know I am flipping ya the bird! Ha! I SOOOOOOOOO love passive aggressive-ism. 😀

I am in a gun shop recently. The two women behind the counter are talking to each other. The older one is talking to the younger one like they are family. So, I ask the younger “Oh, is that you mom?”

Whoops….. Nope, it was her cousin, and not much older. I had had really put my foot in my mouth, metaphorically speaking. I kid you not, after hearing their exclamations I said without missing a beat “geez, if I had feet, I would be pulling them out of my mouth right now!”

Ask Wes, he was there. It was funny!

Recently my entire family had to go out of town for the day for a funeral. I was going to be home by myself. Mom was totally worried about me being home alone without anyone close by. Plus, what will i do to feed myself?

So they leave way early, and I don’t get up till much later. I roll into the kitchen, and low and behold, there is like three kitchen chairs pulled out, stacks of pre packaged food, chips, soda pop bottles and other things on the seats of those chairs. I just rolled my eyes and smiled. Mom made sure I had food within reach!

I have been getting around the house on knee pads recently. Well, mom and dad’s bathroom toilet stool is really low. I made my way in there, and just for fun, I thought I would see if I could go standing up on my knees. The house was empty, dad was gone running errands. So there I am, shirt pulled up and tucked under my chin, shorts pulled down below my butt cheeks like a little one learning to go and afraid he will miss and get his clothes…..(or like that one kid from south park lol)

I did it! Let me tell you, it was an emotional moment. I got done and start bawling like a baby. An angry, hungry baby. Big wracking sobs and loud wails of joy. The house was empty, I could indulge myself, right?

You know, my old man can be quiet when he wants to be…. I mean snake in the grass quiet. I am sobbing in front of their toilet, and from right behind me I hear, “son, are you all right?!?!?”

Darn it, I can’t even cry at the toilet all by myself. I really think I scared about a year out of my dad’s life when he walked through the side door of the house and heard me bawling away. I am such a mean child.

You know, I can’t remember wether or not I had my bare hind in covered when he came in to find me. O_o

Oh, hear is a quick funny. You know my blog post from yesterday, with the title being the lyrics to a great Beatles/Joe Cocker song? Well, guess what song my esteemed mother has been singing ALL MORNING? Yep, somebody has been reading my blogs…..lol

I hope that at least one moment whilst you perused this blog coffee, milk, OJ, or soda came snorting out your nose….. Serves you right for laughing at a guy wif no legs…. Hahaha

Laugh all you want, my friends…. I do. It keeps me sane!

Well aren’t y’all lucky, two blog posts in one day. LOL

I have friends, family, even near strangers tell me often I am an inspiration. Let me tell you, that can be a humbling thing. See, the things that I did and do to put myself so far along on my road to recovery are the same things I have always done.

I am the same man today that I was before that fateful nite of September twenty-ninth, 2010 when I arrived in the ER.

You see, I am stubborn, hard headed, and have a need to do things my way. I truly believe that that is a blessing God put on my soul even before I was put on His earth. But, as with any blessing, it can be twisted. That stubbornness of mine has lost me promotions, gotten me demoted and lost me relationships.

But, now, that same blessing of stubbornness has pushed me to live my life and get back on my feet. Well, whenever my feet get here. While in the coma, when I was literally on a death bed, the doctors kept telling my parents they were amazed, I was a fighter, and that was why I was still alive when I shouldn’t have been. Stubborn I am, what else can I say?

So, if my stubbornness to live is an inspiration to you, then I am glad. That is nothing more than a blessing to you from the Lord. Not from me or by me. I am just a hard headed fool.

I know people in my life that are true inspirations to me. I have some very good friends that have always inspired me. I have watched them raise a daughter into a respectful and intelligent young woman, build a business and maintain a long and loving relationship…… All while fighting a debilitating disease that affected one of them.

That is inspirational to me, and through them, from God, that is a blessing. Over the years other blessings have been sent through them to me. They were there for me during a divorce. When I have times of financial trouble, on more than one occasion, they have helped me. I don’t think they even realized how much of a help they were.

Just when I needed help the most, I might get a call from him, asking if I could do some computer work, and offering to pay. Or, I had opportunities to return blessings by throwing business his way, and got paid commission, even when I tried to refuse it. See, those were all moments of blessings to me in time of need, and they had no idea.

Through all those times, even though they are deeply religious, and strong in their faith, never once did they push God, faith, bible or scripture on me. I think maybe the realize even though I might have the occasion of foul mouth, can be a tad bit randy, and don’t often discuss faith, they know I have it. The road I walk with God is a different road than theirs, but both our roads are headed to the same place.

My faith and belief is simple. Be a good man like I was raised to be, be a good father, be as kind as I can to others, and known we have a God and Father that loves us. I also believe that like any good parent, our Father in Heaven is going to nudge us in the right direction, but is also going to let us make our own mistakes and learn from them.

Conversely, I don’t believe that everything we call or see as blessings are actually blessings from God. I truly believe God let’s us do our own thing and doesn’t often interfere. If planes crash into towers, it’s not because He let it happen, it just happened. Do I think He grieved over that evil? Yea, I do. I will speak more about evil in a minute. If someone wins the lottery, is it a blessing and a miracle? No… Probably not. God loves us, but just doesn’t often interfere. That is my belief.

Now to evil. I truly believe that there is an active evil on this earth. If you believe in God, you, by default, must believe in the devil. Call it by whatever name, as there are many in the bible (and I will get to the bible later) to chose from. The serpent, devil, lucifer…..whatever. If you are a “Christian” than you must believe. Don’t get me wrong, I am no supporter, I try to be constantly on guard against it. Honestly, there are people out there that have no faith in God, but abhor evil. By Christian standards that is almost oxymoronic. But it is true.

Now to the bible. As a said earlier, my friend never pushed at me with the bible or scripture, unless I brought it up. I have had so many people email me, tell me on the phone, message me and facebook me with scripture, telling me those words will get me through my tough times. For me, they don’t. The thing that will get me through God already gave me. My stubborn determination.

Why does scripture not help me? Well, he must have never read it! Oh trust me, I was raised catholic, and still retain many of those core values. When I do read the bible it is the catholic edition, and it has a few more books in it than the KJV, if I remember correctly. Most of the books of the new testament were written only as early as sixty years after the death of Jesus Christ. The bible itself was compiled around three hundred years after His death, and that group was led by a politician who wasn’t even yet converted to christian faith.

Now, I know, I have heard this to many times before, those men were inspired by God, right? If that is your belief, that is ok, but as I wrote earlier, God let’s us do as we will, and that is my belief. There were books written by women, but not included. Why? The men of that time had little respect in the traditional sense for them. Why would the book of Mary not have been included, when she was nearly as much an apostle as the men?She did write one, by the way, google it, the surviving text has been translated and is free to download. I have, and i have read it.

Regardless, the bible we know today is still not that one compiled seventeen hundred years ago. Revisions by the early catholic church and then the whole thing that brought the KJV into existence are just a few examples. Also, think about this. The bible translations were originally done by monks. Many barely literate, sitting in cramped quarters translating by tallow wick candles. I’m not talking about two hundred years ago monks. Were talking a thousand year ago monks!

Here is an example I that comes to mind. I wish I had the ability to draw in my blog, it would make things so much easier!

It is hard for a rich man to get to heaven. I say again, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than to enter the Kingdom of Heaven….

We have all heard this, right? Camel through the eye of the needle. Reference to the name of a gate? No. While the spade shaped gates were made to just barely let camel and rider into a city, and not anyone else slipping by unseen on the other side of the camel, like a thief or criminal, or whatever. But there is no gate by that name in Jerusalem.

Now, think back to this, monks and tallow candle doing translations, and bear with me. The symbol for camel and the symbol for rope in the original scrolls is so similar that it oft times can make one mistaken for the other. So for instance:

Camel = “Ieeeeeieee”
Rope. = “leeeeieee”

See what I mean? Now it is easier for rope to go through the eye of a sewing needle than for a rich man to get to heaven.

Monk translations, by candle light, of scrolls hundreds of years old already.

Anyway, I am getting off point, here, and I apologize. The point is, scripture that brings you peace and gets you through just does not work for me. It doesn’t mean I don’t ever read the bible, it just means that I read when I feel like I need to, or am called to, if you like that wording better.

God gave me courage, strength, family and friends to get me through, as well as a watchful guard against evil.

Now having gone way off target from where I expected this blog to go, :), please let me say this. I am glad that I inspire some of you, I am humble and honored. I hope I haven’t offended anyone with my soap box ramblings. And I certainly hope I won’t have an inbox full of people telling me I am wrong.

Remember, this is my road to walk, and I will walk it my stubborn and determined way, so please respect that. I mean really, I have to walk it on prosthetic legs, give me some latitude here…LOL

With respect,

Neil