ROOM AT THE INN...
There was once a time that a simple, boxy hotel room near the beach was the place I called my abode. It was an efficiency with no kitchen, a blasting window air conditioning unit and an empty fish tank that served as my cereal pantry. As a young twenty-something, I was on my own at this point. My parents had moved back up north about a year earlier, for the second time in four years. Looking back, I see that my dad was searching for something like I was during those days. Fortunately, before my family headed back to Maryland, my dad had established a connection with a lady he knew that ran this lowly hotel I found myself in. I wouldn't call it rickety, but declining was a sure fit for this place. None-the-less, it was the place I stayed for a season and considering the experiences and the people, I truly appreciated every moment of it. I could say, it was the place my life began to change for the better. I had just pulled out from living with two close friends of mine in sharing a newly-built apartment in the next city over. I call them close friends, but a time came when we decided to part ways. Well, there was actually a third person, but he didn't stay with us very long. Of the two close friends, one went back to his family in Tampa to start his own business and the other was considering moving to California to be near his real mother. This idea of a California life was tempting to him, but somehow I convinced him to stay in town. I knew what it was like to be apart from my mother, but I suppose in a selfish way, I needed someone I knew to stay nearby. After begging the hotel lady to let him stay with me until he got on his feet, he quickly became my 'inn twin', bunking on the floor in my place for a very short while. Eventually he packed up and moved out all the way to the room right next to mine. As a whole, we were well mannered but young and immature in our decisions and judgments. We brought no trouble to the lady who owned the hotel, but in a way she was taking a risk letting these two young ragamuffins move into her building and into her life for a short season. Ragamuffin is what she called us.
TO BE SEEN OF MEN...
Nearly everyday, I would rise from sleep for an early morning surf session with close friends, spending most of the day on the beach and in the water. After a day at the beach, we would often return to the inn where the lady who owned the place would nearly always prepare meals for us - breakfast, lunch and dinner. At this time, I was forming a band, getting tattoos, listening to reggae, surfing, working out, traveling in flip-flops and carrying a tan, drinking, and celebrating the night life nearly every night with people we met visiting the beach. It was like a continuous vacation and everyone I met was a part of it. I now call them victims because I tricked them into thinking that this life I was living was something to be desired, and gave them a false impression of being joyful and free. To add to this perception of 'having it all together', I was a full-time college student and crammed my classes into two days. This gave me a remaining five days to do as I pleased. I had a simple job on the beach, very little responsibility, little to answer to and little to complain about and it would appear that I had an easy life to those who crossed my path day after day. At least that is the life I sought after and in some twisted way I thrived on hearing people express their comments of envy towards me. I was grateful that I wasn't stuck in their world with boundaries and structure and discipline. I see now that in an unseen way, those things I wanted to avoid were the very things that I needed. Truly, it was all an illusion.
INSIDE OF THE CUP...
If I could describe this season of my life, I would say that it was mostly superficial or a type of facade. It was a performance and I was the actor. The world was my stage and the people I knew were the audience. In other words, the outward appearance of things concealed a far different condition and movement of thought that was taking place inwardly and fortunately for me 'unseen'. Although externally, things appeared well, I was struggling internally with things that could not be seen with the eyes. There were not specific hardships of this day that were contributing to this struggle, but rather a culmination of unaddressed things throughout all the years of my growing up and this point in time becoming like the pinnacle. I like to describe it as little seeds of destruction that secretly found their place within me earlier in time and was now calling my name in a much louder and authoritative way. These seeds were patiently waiting for me to answer and as I ignored the pursuit of overcoming them year after year, they grew into a lion whose only purpose was to torment and agitate and destroy. Believe me, this lion is real and fully capable of fulfilling his mission. What were these little seeds that demanded my attention and sought to bring ruin? Perhaps a spark of insecurity that formed when I was a child, now developed into a much stronger and raging fire. Or, the wrong attitudes I gave to my parents, the dishonesty I shared with my friends, the jealousy I harbored, the envy that directed my decisions, fears of my health, unfaithfulness, distractions and many other little crippling pin-pricks that found their way to connect with the unseen part of me. They were defects that came about as a harmless piece of thread slowly becoming a rope that tied itself around my heart and mind. I suppose this lion was hoping I would slip and hang myself with it. Whatever the many reasons may be, it was at this point that it all seemed to weigh on me heavily and it brought with it an uneasiness, a dis-ease and disquietness on the inside of me. They were like little fiery darts that penetrated me at some point in time and because I never reached in and quenched them or uprooted them, they remained and festered into something that I quickly learned to cover up, rather than discard. I did not overcome them, therefore they over came me. I didn't feel depressed or sad or angry or treated unfairly, but rather I felt a weight or unattended heaviness that never seemed to leave me. It was a tiredness on the inside as if I had been carrying a heavy load for some time. Like there was unfinished business inside of me that I needed to attend to before I could move forward towards true and unending joy. From the outside, you would see a life that many of that place and age would perhaps envy. They may say "he has it easy and life is simple for him". But please hear when I say, the appearance of things is most often deceiving. No, something was missing deeply within me. Although surrounded by many friends and hobbies, they were just distractions to cover the ever-growing emptiness and loneliness that was forming in my own little world. I would imagine that most people feel this way in some measure and at some time in their life. It was a continual longing for something. Perhaps I was longing for the chance to have my uncomfortable inside to match the appearance of a very comfortable outside. Of course, I didn't want the outside to match the reality of my inside, for then the world would judge me as a broken and wretched hypocrite. What was I truly missing? What kept me in continual uneasiness and unsettledness. This lowly inn was a reflection of what was taking place on the inside of me. Unkept, scarcely occupied and darkened in its own ways. No one could tell there was a void that slowly grew within me. Of course they couldn't, I covered it with a laugh and a drink and day of surf. I would imagine most people will say 'that's just life and we all have those little things in us'. To some, that may be sufficient to move through this life, but to me, I called out for something more. Medicine couldn't heal this wound. Who and what was I calling to? At the time, I had no idea, but I called and I called until the voice of the person within me was hoarse. The calls became cries and the cries became pleads.
A HIDDEN WORD...
As you may know, most hotels have a nightstand neighboring the bed and in that drawer you will often find a little black book. For those who know me, know that I have no religious background of any sort. At this point in time, I had never been inclined to seek out the things of God, never gone to church places, never studied or desired or tried to form a relationship with the truth. The only way I followed was the way of my own desires. No, I did not despise the idea of God, I just didn't know him or care to know about him. I was too focused and interested in things I could see, things of this world. I didn't know how to give my attention to things I couldn't see, spiritual things. Yet, in this desperate inward condition, I was inclined to at least open the drawer and look at the cover of this book in a strange and comforting way. Its presence was a type of security in some mysterious way. Just a glance at the word 'holy' imprinted in gold on the cover of this book brought upon itself a majestic impression to me. I know now that the gold fades, but the message remains. Day upon day, week upon week, my growing despair led me to actually opening the cover and looking within. I hesitated because something inside knew I would be opening a door to a world beyond the one I was living in. It was as if I knew the answers to my questions could be found. Strangely, as empty as I felt, I was comfortable and didn't want to agitate this comfort. However, it was a continual torment and aching for something more peaceful. A thorn in my side that I couldn't turn my attention from. I could no longer keep myself from opening the book and a day came that I decided to thumb through a few of the first pages. The title was Genesis, which in a simple way means beginning. From my vue, it was the beginning of the bible, but I have come to learn later that it was the beginning of something much more than that. Here I am at the beginning of a book that so many claim brings change to their lives. I read with doubt, reluctance and a bit of confusion. I made my way through a few verses and my perception of the things contained in that book were that they were too far-fetched to make sense and my rational vue couldn't allow me to just trust what I was reading. No, I logically could not see how these beginning things could have taken place, therefore, I closed the book for another time. Each day for me was a false portrait of happiness, and as each night came to an end and the crowd would disperse, I would go into my empty little room, dim the lights, and attempt another session of reading. It would be as if I entered into a secret world that no friends knew about. I would run and run throughout the day and at the close of each, I would come to a standstill and crouch down in my little closet of a room begging for something more. I was living two lives, double-minded, lukewarm, and confused concerning the truth of my life as I knew it. With a continual effort to read and understand the content of that book, I never seemed to get very far at the time. I had no idea what I was reading and no idea how to pronounce the names and places that were written before me. For someone who has been in this position, you can agree how discouraging this is. Here lies before me a book that so many have claimed to help change their lives and after several months I couldn't move past the first few pages. I kept starting over and over again hoping that I would just get it one time so I can move on. That never happened, no, not while I was there. So, I closed my eyes and continued calling on the inside for help. For someone, somehow and somewhere to show me a better way. A way that would fulfill this lacking within me and give me a reason for life other than the superficial and shallow life I had continued building upon there in the inn.
LIGHT IN THE DARK...
Something was indeed drawing me from this inner place. I could not see it or hear it from the outside. I could not form words to express what I felt, no not then. It was a still, small voice deep within inducing me with the slight hope of a better way. A ray of light that was peeking perfectly through the cloud of my darkened sky. Like hearing the forecast that the rain will end, but not seeing it just yet. Only knowing the existence of a clear day waiting on the other side of something. Just enough to capture my attention and say "who or what are you?". It was like a force that had the ability to help, but waited for me to seek it out and take a hold of it. I had to pursue it and the more I strove, the more light that shone through the gray. At this point I couldn't label this strange, yet hopeful drawing but I am certain it was real. Whatever was drawing and calling for my attention, I couldn't ignore it. It was taking a hold of me from the inside and my strength to fight against it was becoming less. I was realizing what it meant to lower myself to something much greater than me. I just didn't realize what I was lowering myself to yet.
Continue to 'OVERSHADOWED'
TO BE SEEN OF MEN...
Nearly everyday, I would rise from sleep for an early morning surf session with close friends, spending most of the day on the beach and in the water. After a day at the beach, we would often return to the inn where the lady who owned the place would nearly always prepare meals for us - breakfast, lunch and dinner. At this time, I was forming a band, getting tattoos, listening to reggae, surfing, working out, traveling in flip-flops and carrying a tan, drinking, and celebrating the night life nearly every night with people we met visiting the beach. It was like a continuous vacation and everyone I met was a part of it. I now call them victims because I tricked them into thinking that this life I was living was something to be desired, and gave them a false impression of being joyful and free. To add to this perception of 'having it all together', I was a full-time college student and crammed my classes into two days. This gave me a remaining five days to do as I pleased. I had a simple job on the beach, very little responsibility, little to answer to and little to complain about and it would appear that I had an easy life to those who crossed my path day after day. At least that is the life I sought after and in some twisted way I thrived on hearing people express their comments of envy towards me. I was grateful that I wasn't stuck in their world with boundaries and structure and discipline. I see now that in an unseen way, those things I wanted to avoid were the very things that I needed. Truly, it was all an illusion.
INSIDE OF THE CUP...
If I could describe this season of my life, I would say that it was mostly superficial or a type of facade. It was a performance and I was the actor. The world was my stage and the people I knew were the audience. In other words, the outward appearance of things concealed a far different condition and movement of thought that was taking place inwardly and fortunately for me 'unseen'. Although externally, things appeared well, I was struggling internally with things that could not be seen with the eyes. There were not specific hardships of this day that were contributing to this struggle, but rather a culmination of unaddressed things throughout all the years of my growing up and this point in time becoming like the pinnacle. I like to describe it as little seeds of destruction that secretly found their place within me earlier in time and was now calling my name in a much louder and authoritative way. These seeds were patiently waiting for me to answer and as I ignored the pursuit of overcoming them year after year, they grew into a lion whose only purpose was to torment and agitate and destroy. Believe me, this lion is real and fully capable of fulfilling his mission. What were these little seeds that demanded my attention and sought to bring ruin? Perhaps a spark of insecurity that formed when I was a child, now developed into a much stronger and raging fire. Or, the wrong attitudes I gave to my parents, the dishonesty I shared with my friends, the jealousy I harbored, the envy that directed my decisions, fears of my health, unfaithfulness, distractions and many other little crippling pin-pricks that found their way to connect with the unseen part of me. They were defects that came about as a harmless piece of thread slowly becoming a rope that tied itself around my heart and mind. I suppose this lion was hoping I would slip and hang myself with it. Whatever the many reasons may be, it was at this point that it all seemed to weigh on me heavily and it brought with it an uneasiness, a dis-ease and disquietness on the inside of me. They were like little fiery darts that penetrated me at some point in time and because I never reached in and quenched them or uprooted them, they remained and festered into something that I quickly learned to cover up, rather than discard. I did not overcome them, therefore they over came me. I didn't feel depressed or sad or angry or treated unfairly, but rather I felt a weight or unattended heaviness that never seemed to leave me. It was a tiredness on the inside as if I had been carrying a heavy load for some time. Like there was unfinished business inside of me that I needed to attend to before I could move forward towards true and unending joy. From the outside, you would see a life that many of that place and age would perhaps envy. They may say "he has it easy and life is simple for him". But please hear when I say, the appearance of things is most often deceiving. No, something was missing deeply within me. Although surrounded by many friends and hobbies, they were just distractions to cover the ever-growing emptiness and loneliness that was forming in my own little world. I would imagine that most people feel this way in some measure and at some time in their life. It was a continual longing for something. Perhaps I was longing for the chance to have my uncomfortable inside to match the appearance of a very comfortable outside. Of course, I didn't want the outside to match the reality of my inside, for then the world would judge me as a broken and wretched hypocrite. What was I truly missing? What kept me in continual uneasiness and unsettledness. This lowly inn was a reflection of what was taking place on the inside of me. Unkept, scarcely occupied and darkened in its own ways. No one could tell there was a void that slowly grew within me. Of course they couldn't, I covered it with a laugh and a drink and day of surf. I would imagine most people will say 'that's just life and we all have those little things in us'. To some, that may be sufficient to move through this life, but to me, I called out for something more. Medicine couldn't heal this wound. Who and what was I calling to? At the time, I had no idea, but I called and I called until the voice of the person within me was hoarse. The calls became cries and the cries became pleads.
A HIDDEN WORD...
As you may know, most hotels have a nightstand neighboring the bed and in that drawer you will often find a little black book. For those who know me, know that I have no religious background of any sort. At this point in time, I had never been inclined to seek out the things of God, never gone to church places, never studied or desired or tried to form a relationship with the truth. The only way I followed was the way of my own desires. No, I did not despise the idea of God, I just didn't know him or care to know about him. I was too focused and interested in things I could see, things of this world. I didn't know how to give my attention to things I couldn't see, spiritual things. Yet, in this desperate inward condition, I was inclined to at least open the drawer and look at the cover of this book in a strange and comforting way. Its presence was a type of security in some mysterious way. Just a glance at the word 'holy' imprinted in gold on the cover of this book brought upon itself a majestic impression to me. I know now that the gold fades, but the message remains. Day upon day, week upon week, my growing despair led me to actually opening the cover and looking within. I hesitated because something inside knew I would be opening a door to a world beyond the one I was living in. It was as if I knew the answers to my questions could be found. Strangely, as empty as I felt, I was comfortable and didn't want to agitate this comfort. However, it was a continual torment and aching for something more peaceful. A thorn in my side that I couldn't turn my attention from. I could no longer keep myself from opening the book and a day came that I decided to thumb through a few of the first pages. The title was Genesis, which in a simple way means beginning. From my vue, it was the beginning of the bible, but I have come to learn later that it was the beginning of something much more than that. Here I am at the beginning of a book that so many claim brings change to their lives. I read with doubt, reluctance and a bit of confusion. I made my way through a few verses and my perception of the things contained in that book were that they were too far-fetched to make sense and my rational vue couldn't allow me to just trust what I was reading. No, I logically could not see how these beginning things could have taken place, therefore, I closed the book for another time. Each day for me was a false portrait of happiness, and as each night came to an end and the crowd would disperse, I would go into my empty little room, dim the lights, and attempt another session of reading. It would be as if I entered into a secret world that no friends knew about. I would run and run throughout the day and at the close of each, I would come to a standstill and crouch down in my little closet of a room begging for something more. I was living two lives, double-minded, lukewarm, and confused concerning the truth of my life as I knew it. With a continual effort to read and understand the content of that book, I never seemed to get very far at the time. I had no idea what I was reading and no idea how to pronounce the names and places that were written before me. For someone who has been in this position, you can agree how discouraging this is. Here lies before me a book that so many have claimed to help change their lives and after several months I couldn't move past the first few pages. I kept starting over and over again hoping that I would just get it one time so I can move on. That never happened, no, not while I was there. So, I closed my eyes and continued calling on the inside for help. For someone, somehow and somewhere to show me a better way. A way that would fulfill this lacking within me and give me a reason for life other than the superficial and shallow life I had continued building upon there in the inn.
LIGHT IN THE DARK...
Something was indeed drawing me from this inner place. I could not see it or hear it from the outside. I could not form words to express what I felt, no not then. It was a still, small voice deep within inducing me with the slight hope of a better way. A ray of light that was peeking perfectly through the cloud of my darkened sky. Like hearing the forecast that the rain will end, but not seeing it just yet. Only knowing the existence of a clear day waiting on the other side of something. Just enough to capture my attention and say "who or what are you?". It was like a force that had the ability to help, but waited for me to seek it out and take a hold of it. I had to pursue it and the more I strove, the more light that shone through the gray. At this point I couldn't label this strange, yet hopeful drawing but I am certain it was real. Whatever was drawing and calling for my attention, I couldn't ignore it. It was taking a hold of me from the inside and my strength to fight against it was becoming less. I was realizing what it meant to lower myself to something much greater than me. I just didn't realize what I was lowering myself to yet.
Continue to 'OVERSHADOWED'
