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Tuesday, March 22, 2011

langston



I'm sure many of you have already read on Facebook that I lost one of my cats yesterday to an Upper Respiratory Infection and Feline Infectious Peritonitis (FIP), a viral disease of cats caused by certain strains of a virus called the feline coronavirus. Though this is common in rescue kittens and cats, this happened all too fast and unexpectedly for me.

Langston was just about a year old and had so much energy. He was always getting into trouble and taunting his buddy Porter into wrestling. He was so loving and just loved to be touched and cuddled. He really was a friend of mine and Porter. My roommates came to love and appreciate his youthful charm and also miss him very much. If anyone were to leave their door open, there Langston would be, cuddled on there bed next to their pillow or hiding from Porter, under the bed. It wasn't a surprise to find him in the bathtub or climbing into the home entertainment center to rest by the warm TV. He really was the most curious, fun-loving cat I've come across. He was so forgiving; you could yell at him to get off the counter or give him his ear drops or clip his claws, which he abhorred, but right afterward he would purr and cuddle up into my arms and begged to get his head and his nose scratched. He was my "little bambino" or "monkey" as I affectionately called him.

I was there at the hospital to visit him one last time and as was common with him when he saw me he came right into my arms to cuddle. He was in a lot of pain and very scared, but he knew I was there to love him. I will never forget that moment that he recognized me after a few days of being apart and how, even though he could barely move, he made the effort to come to me and be loved.

I hugged him, pet him and after awhile said my goodbyes. The doctor gave him something to make him really sleepy, then gave him the shot to put him to rest. It was the first time I had ever really watched a living creature, especially one I was close to, leave this existence. I was there when he breathed his last breath and as sad as I was, I could not produce even a tear because the experience was just too unreal to me.

I came home to my other cat, Porter, who is also sad, but more importantly, needs me to think of him, love him and continue to taken care of his needs. This has kept my mind off the entire experience. In the last 24 hours I have tried to fill my mind with fond memories of the time we spent together; this has helped to a degree. The problem is I wish there was something I could have done to prevent this from happening or would have got him care sooner, but what's done is done. My life is still going and there's so much to do; it doesn't feel like I have anytime to breathe after this ordeal.

I am not sure if it's losing him that is such a big deal or the feeling of losing someone that hurts so bad. I've spent a good part of my life being abandoned and losing loved ones. It's always hard for me to really process my feelings and this situation is no different. I keep telling myself, like I have before, that it's not my fault. However; in the back of my mind, I still feel, in some way, that it is.

What's the lesson I can learn from this and other situations? I know that things happen for a reason or sometimes for no reason at all. Good things happen to bad people just as bad things happen to good people, but which am I? It's been four years since my grandmother's death, which is the last time I lost someone very close to me. Maybe it was time for me to feel loss and pain in a effort to keep me in touch with God. Of course I don't blame God for this, how could I? Sometimes it takes a tragedy to set me back on the path, seeking God's blessings and to put trust back into Him and not myself. Maybe this is one of those times.

I feel blessed to have been able to know Langston because he did make me so happy and I am glad that he is no longer in pain. Rest in peace my little bambino.

You have been caught Jey Walking!

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

get it right





WOW! This sums up how I feel right about now.

Get It Right (GLEE)

What have I done? I wish I could
Away from this ship goin’ under
Just tryin’ to help, hurt everyone
Now I feel the weight of the world is
On my shoulders
What can you do when your good isn’t good enough?
When all that you touch tumbles down?
‘Cause my best intentions keep making a mess of things
I just wanna fix it somehow
But how many it times will it take?
Oh, how many times will it take for me?
To get it right
To get it ri-igh-ight
Can I start again with my faith shaken?
‘Cause I can’t go back and undo this
I just have to stay and face my mistakes
But if I get stronger and wiser
I’ll get through this
What can you do when your good isn’t good enough?
When all that you touch tumbles down?
‘Cause my best intentions keep making a mess of things
I just wanna fix it somehow
But how many it times will it take?
Oh, how many times will it take for me?
To get it right
To get it ri-igh-ight
So I throw up my fist
I will punch in the air
And accept the truth that sometimes life isn’t fair
Yeah, I’ll send out a wish
Yeah, I’ll send up a prayer
And finally, someone will see
How much I care!
What can you do when your good isn’t good enough?
When all that you touch tumbles down?
‘Cause my best intentions keep making a mess of things
I just wanna fix it somehow
But how many it times will it take?
Oh, how many times will it take for me?
To get it right
To get it ri-igh-ight

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

help thou mine unbelief


My life is at a standstill, like a old western cowboy duel at high noon. I am on the dusty street; everyone is hiding, but peering out the windows to watch. I am dueling against myself; when I turn around to draw my weapon, I see myself in a mirror and hesitate to shoot. I cannot seem to get past the shame that has overtaken my life for over the last two decades of my life. In so many ways I have failed myself, my family, my friends, the world and God. My psychologist said, I'm measuring my life and its worth by my failures; he's right, I am because I hardly see or care about anything else. He asked me if I believe God had the power to heal me and redeem me. I said, yes. He asked me if I believed I was redeemable. I answered, no. And that in itself tells the whole story.

The second step in healing from shame or an addiction is to, "Come to believe that the power of God can restore you to complete spiritual health." Now I know what the Atonement is, I know of Jesus Christ and that He is the Son of God and Savior to mankind. I know that I will be resurrected after this life, but I don't feel He can save me in this one. Can He redeem me? Yes. Will He? I highly doubt it. 

People may see a kind, loving, friendly, giving and accomplished man in me, but all I really see is someone who has piled up so many poor choices whose consequences I may never be rid of, ever. I have hurt so many people in my lifetime, including myself. I have said horrible things, done terrible things and thought unforgivable things. What kind of hypocrite am I that wishes to change the world and serve others, but is, in so many ways, so selfish? I am not God; I do not see what He sees, but I know how I have lived my life; passing opportunities to change, to be better, to serve others and to be more like Him.

"O wretched man that I am! Yea, my heart sorroweth because of my flesh; my soul grieveth because of mine iniquities. I am encompassed about, because of the temptations and the sins which do so easily beset me. And when I desire to rejoice, my heart groaneth because of my sins..." 
2 Nephi 4:17-19

I am not Nephi, I do not have the courage to turn my life to God and to not only believe I can be changed, but to do anything about it. The third step in recovery is to move past simply believing that, "the power of God can restore you to complete spiritual health," and moves into deciding, "to turn your will and your life over to the care of God the Eternal Father and His Son, Jesus Christ." 

I cannot even trust myself. I can count on maybe one hand the people in my life that I can trust, without question; that I feel know me, love me and are close to me. Maybe I am exaggerating, but it feels like the circle is that small. I feel I have lived a life in constant abandonment. People have failed me throughout my life, whether they know it or not and whether it was intentional or not. Sometimes they haven't really failed me, but it just feels as if they have; I admit I am more sensitive than others.

So after all this ranting, what am I to do? I am not doing well at work, I am falling behind in school, my spiritual life is lacking and I have become socially inept. I am anchored down by my fear, guilt, shame and sadness. I have worn a mask to hide who I really am for so long that I am not sure if my face could handle the light if I took it off. I live in darkness and it has become a seemingly safe place for me, but I am starving, cold, feeble and alone. How could God see me for anything more than a black splatter on a clean, white canvas? How do I have hope when I feel hopeless? How do I trust when I live in fear and anxiety? How do I move from just believing in Christ to actually believing Him; trusting He can do all that He has promised to do?

"...Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief." 
Mark 9:24