Casualties

The casualties are not always clear. Sometimes the wounds that do the most damage are the ones below the surface, below skin, deeper than the physical - cutting into our psyche. Sometimes the casualties are those things that are beyond the actual conflict. Like the children hiding in the wings of a divorce, the family that’s taken away by a drunk driver, the financial downfall of an economic system that affects homeowners all over. The casualty of words in red and blue that scream and scream at each other endlessly with no resolution in sight.

There are casualties everywhere.

So, how do we live without adding to this pile of struggle, tragedy, hurt that we may not even see?

Be kind.

Take a moment and think about your actions.

Live a life that tries to give back instead of always taking.

I don’t think this is going to erase the casualties but it might ease some of the hurt - or just keep some of the hurt from actually happening. If we instead try to find ways to edify, there will be less moments with people left laying on the floor in a puddle of anxiety, loss, sadness.

We may not be able to take away the hurt in the world but we damn well can make it less. I firmly believe this. Yes, the cynic that I am believes that we can make a difference - on a grassroots level.

Listen to those around you. Sometimes they may be screaming in the softest voice you will ever hear.

Be willing. Be willing to lend a hand even when it might be a dirty hand you’re reaching out to.

Be compassionate. I struggle with this one. Other than my kids, those close to me, I can sometimes just be a turd. I need to be better at trying to heal instead of letting my words, my actions cause more hurt.

Some of those casualties take years to unpack and to start mending. So start now.

Take a moment and try to find some kind of hope. I know a place that gives a lot of hope. It’s the one place that helps me move forward on days when I just don’t want to.

At the end of my life I want to be able to look back at all the carnage that I’ve caused, and hope I’ve spent the last 20 to 30 years of my life just trying to make the world better instead of leaving a path of destruction.

At least that’s my plan.

One step at a time.

~ Peace

The Burtle 

Hard to Get

“Not that I have already obtained it or have already become perfect, but I press on so that I may lay hold of that for which also I was laid hold of by Christ Jesus. Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”‭‭

Philippians‬ ‭3‬:‭12‬-‭14‬ ‭NASB1995‬‬

I press on?

Hell, I often do well to just get up and push the button on the coffee maker (which I’ve remedied by getting a fancy-ish programmable one from Walmart).

To press on to the goal of Heaven? I’m working on schedules and checkbooks (yes, I still do an old school type bank register) while trying to not get swallowed whole by the expectations of man and the juxtaposition of figuring out this whole faith thing, a journey I’ve been on my entire life.

But I don’t have to figure the faith thing out.  I believe.  And those two simple words hold power, trust, fear (in God), hope and breath. I’ve been learning more lessons in trust lately.  Trust that he’ll let me fail, if his plan.  That he’ll walk beside me even when I’m so wracked with tears that I can’t see him.  That he’ll whisper when I’m too stubborn to hear.  That he’ll hold me, when I’m still such a child looking for the arms of my father.

If I think too much, it’s impossible to fathom.  If I stop and be still, I find those whispers - echoes of the days he’s been there when I didn’t want to believe.  The day he rescued my soul from the depth of my sickness.

He’s hard to get.  But maybe that’s the point.  It’s not for us to fully understand. And as I often still fight for the answers, he gives the gift of a musician, a friend, a meeting and peace.

My favorite musician (that seems like a trite way of putting it) keeps popping up.  A man who passed before I really knew the depths of his own journey. Rich, thank you for being the constant that gave me a picture of Christ that I can actually ‘get’, even when I don’t get God at all.

So I press on.  To coffee, to work, to being here, in skin until he takes me home.

~ Peace

The Burtle 

Hard to Get - Rich Mullins

Liar, Lunatic or Lord

"I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: I'm ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don't accept his claim to be God. That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic—on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg—or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God, but let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to. ... Now it seems to me obvious that He was neither a lunatic nor a fiend: and consequently, however strange or terrifying or unlikely it may seem, I have to accept the view that He was and is God."

CS Lewis, from Mere Christianity

It isn’t a new argument. That this being we exalt and hold so high might also be looked at in different light from different eyes. And of course he is, our perspectives are different. If you ask a native Indian about God they will preach you a much different version than the blonde hair, blue eyed version that sat in the back of the church I grew up in. If you ask someone from Africa who has no understanding of Christ, they will tell you quickly about what they do worship. And if you go to the mental hospital and ask those who are coming off of drugs or so warped and twisted from dark possessions of the world, they might tell you something totally different.

The fact is that there are three pretty clear things you can think. And probably a lot of others, but I’m gonna stick to the ones that CS Lewis pointed out. Was he a liar? Was he crazy? Is he God?

Well, for a long time, I struggled with the crazy and God thing. Maybe I still do, but I do know who I believe in. Was he a liar? I don’t think so.

But you get to make that decision. Take God in flesh and put him in the center of a very polarizing environment. The Jews thought they had all the answers and were going to rule until God came down to wipe out all of their enemies. The Gentiles, they were more like those of us who hadn’t had all the religious upbringing. Take the tribes that were scattered, take the romans, who had come in from afar and put them all into a bucket and this is where you drop the son of man.

Was he a good man? I’m sure the Pharisees didn’t think so. They thought he was a crazed madman who spat at their religion and told them how wrong they were to their face. Something they hadn’t really experienced before. The Romans even gave them the respect of keeping their ways while taking over the area.

To the woman at the well? Well, he told her who he was and who she was without even doing a deep dive. He knew her heart, and he also knew her situation.

I don’t scour the scriptures like I used to, but I do still remember the words I was taught and do go back and check.  I know that there is one conclusion that I can hold onto. As much as I’ve struggled with it over the years, Jesus is the son of God and that’s the same God who saved me. 

Did I think he was lying to me? Oh hell, yeah. I thought for years he was lying to me about my own salvation. I questioned, and I poked at the belief until I had nothing left to poke at. Because what I was really doing was poking at my own disbelief. Do I think he was a mad man… Hell, yes! Only a mad man would come down and be amongst us when he didn’t have to. But even that says that he had a plan, a plan beyond anything I could do or fathom. Was he God? Yes. In this human’s opinion, he was God.

He is God.

And you can take all of us who believe and put us in a bowl and you’ll find that we are either truly lying to ourselves, taken advantage of by the biggest con job in history. Or we are following a mad zealot who walked from town to town spreading this crazy message. Or We are simply following the God who shows up. Who stands beside us even when we can’t understand why.

Liar, Lunatic, Lord. I know who he is to me.

You get to figure that out for yourself.

~ Peace

The Burtle

The wonder in the ‘Why?’

It’s probably the biggest single struggle in my faith - where my heart and my mind collide.

The ‘Why’.

Why would infinite father on high send his son down to die on the tree for me?

And all the faithful followers who don’t have doubt, man I wish I had your strength, because I know who I am and I know that I struggle. While my heart knows 100% there is a God, my mind questions why he would do that for me. Why?

And that is the beauty of the frailty of man coming to the feet of the fulfillment of God.

While God so loved the world, he also knew that there would be ones like me that don’t always get it. In our frailty, in our bitterness and our sorrow we still just fight with him constantly. The utter cynic in me looks for answers while my heart still beats for the God I love.

I’ve had some people tell me that it was a surrender problem. Maybe, but more than anything it’s a hardheaded, free thinker who didn’t come through faith by simple submission. Who came to faith by fighting with religion and facing demons. I’m sure others of you have gone on that journey.

And maybe that’s why I’m writing this. Because there are others out there who question the sacrifice but know there’s something more. And in those spaces in between, that’s where we have to rectify our faith into something that we may not totally understand, but down deep feel and experience it’s truth.

Why would Christ die for me? And I’m not talking about the sin thing, I get that. I’m talking about the simple looking at a human being (God in flesh) and saying ‘why would you die for me?’ and then realizing it’s God and we may never understand his ways. Hell, never understand!! 

So if you’re struggling with a tugging inside your chest that just won’t let go, struggling at the fact that it doesn’t make sense, I get it. I get you. And I want to tell you, there is hope.

Last night I sat alone in an Airbnb and thought about all of the celebrities who, in the height of their fame drank or drugged or just flat out killed themselves because they were alone. Robin Williams, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Chris Cornell. I felt alone last night too. And I knew I needed to sleep. I needed to get up and face a new day today. Hope in human form is no hope at all. And if we’re not careful, we start playing with the most precious gift we have, life.

I’ve been down that dark road, and what I’ve learned is that I won’t always understand the path, but I usually understand the next step. And many times I get correction, nudges from the universe, from God, from others around me to keep me moving forward.

Going back to the question of why - I don’t know the answer, but I know that when I’ve been in my darkest there has been a light that annoyingly shines. Not letting go of me even when I wanted to let go myself.

Why?

Because God loves even me.

And if you can’t rectify what’s going on inside your gut with what’s going on in your head, gosh, I’d love to talk to you. Not to convince you, but just to know that there’s someone who wants to hear.

 ~ Peace

The Burtle

Mary, did you know?

‘Mary did you know 

that your baby boy

Will one day walk on water?

Mary did you know 

that your baby boy

Will save our sons and daughters?

Did you know 

that your baby boy

Has come to make you new?

This child that you've delivered

Will soon deliver you”

 - words by Mark Lowry 

She was told that she would be a mom. Not just any mom, but she would birth life into the world by carrying and nurturing the son of man.

What a mantle.

Can you imagine the weight? Honestly, I wonder if all of you moms already can. Because the responsibility, the joy, the tenderness and the headaches that come with raising a child might be beyond anything that I understand, but I wonder if you already know how hard it can be to have this tiny little form that you know is going to grow up and grow away come into the world in your hands.

Jesus was special. Unique. He was God.

I know none of you have raised a saint, because I know some of your children! Kidding! But I do know that Mary was given the instructions to love, to teach, to admonish Jesus, just as all of you have been given that subtle understanding in your spirit of what it takes to cradle something and then be able to let go.

Mary had to let her son go to the cross. It was his destiny from the beginning. She watched him, followed him and she lingered nearby, never interrupting his mission (well, maybe with the wine thing).

To all of you moms, and there are so many of you that I call mom, regardless of whether you birthed me or not (you did not want to birth me, it was 10 lbs. 3 oz. and I’ve been a lot since the very beginning!). Thank you for the journey that you walk with these little beings that God has placed in your hands. Knowing that one day they will have to walk on their own and they may walk away, but you still do what you were asked. 

Loving. 

Holding. 

Letting them go.

You are mom.

~ Peace

The Burtle

Video of the original version of the song - click below:

https://youtu.be/bXmfkFoX-PE?si=Yu1yAKiGsCqd3-eP

A Cynic’s Guide to Faith

I have doubts.

Many.

Sitting on the cynical side of faith while at the same time fully aware that I wouldn’t be sitting here at all without that same faith.

I question.

People.  Motives.  Government.  Policies and even the validity of stop signs, especially along those rural stretches of road along 278 through the outskirts of Georgia into Alabama.

I guess I’m supposed to just believe.  Well that got me tied to a bottle and wishing I could just make them understand… fighting a losing war with myself.

Why do I have these questions? Maybe one day I’ll get to ask the Dude on High. My faith didn’t come easy, yet it’s the easiest thing for me to actually believe.

A cynic believing in one true God. Yep.

Because even those of us who struggle with trust, who struggle with letting go, who struggle with knowing that the world will ultimately let them down can find a sliver of peace in knowing that tears aren’t wasted on heaven. That all the hard isn’t bigger than the God who whispered “I am here.”

And if you don’t question and can just believe without doubt, I wish I had your superpower. Mine seems to be flying headfirst into brick walls until I knock myself silly!

Funny thing is, when I doubt the only thing that always remains after disappointment from other fallen humans, institutions without a conscience or relationships that seem so fucking one sided is the truth. The truth that after a good cry (last night and this morning) there will be that same sliver of peace once eyes have dried and breathing has calmed.

Oh, I doubt. I question.

Yet, I still believe.

~ Peace 

The Burtle 

A matter of Time

It’s a matter of time.

I met them at a Christmas party just over a year ago. The conversation was several older men discussing life and generalities and it floated to the fact that I worked at the time for a large window and door company. There were a couple more specific questions and this new gentleman asked me about a storm door. What would I get, where would I get it?

Just a couple of weeks later I found myself at his house with his wife installing the door. What I didn’t realize was he was an engineer, and that he would be watching every step of the process. Here’s the thing, I’m a creative type who went into carpentry late, not an engineer or a fully apprenticed trade school carpenter.  I know what I’m doing, I just look at it from a different perspective and often times walk-through things by having to learn. What I thought it was going to be a frustrating experience became a learning experience for me, but also what I believe was a bonding experience for us.

It took me a couple days to do that door, mainly because I had to build it out and I wanted to make sure it was done as best as possible for both my specifications and his satisfaction.

Every time I go to their house I look at that door and make sure that it hasn’t fallen apart. <cringe>  Slightly as a joke, but also because I want to make sure that the work I’ve done honors them.

Fast forward to this last weekend, after a year of visiting them when I can - always trying to stay in touch. Introducing them to my girlfriend/soon to be more… I’m at their house on a very hot day after loading a trailer to move out of state. They asked me specifically to come by and see them and of course I wanted to, but I was tired. I actually wanted to just get on the road and end a frustrating day. Sometimes when we plan things we have to depend on others and well, that’s not always the easiest thing. There had been a huge letdown earlier that morning from one of my oldest friends, and though I tried to understand, I was angry, hot, tired, spirit-drained.

I walked in and after just a few minutes this gentleman tells me he has something for me. I won’t lie and say that it wasn’t what I secretly hoped for. From the very first day I walked into their house I have been in enamored by all of the beautiful antique clocks that cover the walls, nooks and crannies, everywhere. Oh, I wanted one. But I would’ve never asked. And honestly it was a joy to always get to look at them and be fascinated. Definitely not because I’m technical, but I can appreciate them - the beauty and age and craftsmanship that comes with each.

He walked me around to the counter where underneath a small covering was one of the most beautiful little clocks. I’ve spent a couple hours since looking up information about this clock. But it really comes down to time.

Not just time that the clock registers, but time spent caring for and learning about other others.

I know a good bit about this couple, not everything. I know, Madison, Alabama, Auburn University, aircraft and clocks, medical procedures, and a little dog. I know that I have been so grateful to have been able to change some lightbulbs, move groceries, clean off a deck. And more than anything else I’ve learned to cherish a couple that I didn’t even know a year ago.

I plan on staying in touch. I also plan on cherishing that clock - making sure I take care of it. Because it isn’t about the clock. It’s about the love.

 ~ Peace 

The Burtle

Freebird

“If I leave here tomorrow

Would you still remember me?

For I must be traveling on now

'Cause there's too many places I've got to see”

It’s a song of the South. Possibly the southern national anthem if you really wanna get into it, by a group that spent a lifetime traveling and making music their own way; through deep rooted beginnings, tragedy, departures, success and a legacy that still plays on through whatever medium you listen to your music on.

Lynyrd Skynyrd.

And while I cannot say that I am their greatest fan, I am a son of the south. An educated white liberal Christian who never has seemed to fit in 100%, but knows my roots and knows who I am finally after 50+ years!

‘If I leave here tomorrow…’ well that’s gonna happen. Not tomorrow, but in the near future - the next days even. Taking on a new adventure and this time taking the time to plan it out and make sure that it at least has the inklings of success instead of running across the country like I did several years ago just to “do the right thing” - when I wasn’t even sure what the right thing was.

It’s crazy. And at the same time it makes perfect sense. Where else would I go but to the place I feel like I can do life, work, wake up next to someone I love and though not free in the sense of my hippy spirit reminiscent of the 60s and 70s, to be free in the ways that I can be. Which is by following my heart, which hurts sometimes, and just pressing forward into the next day.

“Would you still remember me?”

In the past, I’ve left quite a path of destruction that I’m sure many people remember. But I also left some good. And in my more recent history it has been about making sure that I leave a positive reflection of who I am and what I believe when I’m dealing with others - whether it be through work or social interactions or in this place that we try to hold God in at times. 

Man, those of you at Burnt Hickory have been so important! My class. In ways you may never know, you’ve guided and loved and shown me that I’m ok in a place where I really don’t like being most of the time.

If you know me, really know me I hope you realize how important you people are to me. Though I can happily do life alone as a hermit at times, I do want there to be people who see me for who I am. Not for the mixed up child of the church, but for the man of faith that I truly strive to be every day. And I think you’ve seen me.

I love you all!

Through my faith I’m free to be who I am, not chained or shackled but open and ready to see what comes next. 

In his hands!

~ Peace 

The Burtle

Cold of Winter

Winter sucks. The final season of the life cycle. Cold, bitter, lifeless - at least on the surface.

Cold winds blow and the comfort of heat is always a flicker away from being extinguished.

Life comes to a close. Often through time spent and a life lived, but other times it ends before the first sapling even has a chance to experience sunlight.

We don’t know when and I sure can’t fathom the way the ruler of the universe operates, but death comes.

In this case before even taking a breath.

So the sting of winter might be just a little deeper. A child isn’t born, at least not a functioning child that gets to run and play and live and learn and grow. But that doesn’t mean there’s not love there. It doesn’t mean that there’s not significance.

There’s a soul there. One we won’t get to experience. A soul that maybe just didn’t need to be here and already had its ticket to someplace better. Hopefully a heaven full of frolicking and playing and all the stuff kids do down here.

My friend is hurting. His wife just lost their little baby boy. All I could say was “I’m sorry”, but it doesn’t seem enough. How do you tell him that it’s okay? I don’t. I just told him I’m here if he needs me.

And that little soul, I’m glad to know that there’s something bigger up there. That in the dark of winter, on one of the coldest days I’ve felt in a while, there’s a little warmth knowing that he’s home.

Spring will come, and cold outside will turn into the wet mushiness of life.  But not without a moment taken (at least by me) to look at one of those first flowers and say a whispered prayer.

~ Peace

The Burtle 

Light in the Dark

The body knows.

The heart knows.

And it shows.

Even amidst lies, misdirection, wrong intentions - the truth shows.

The truth always shows.

It breaks down walls that we thought were impregnable.  Shatters mirrors of doubt. Lightning strikes through years of lies told over and over in our minds.

I spent the morning at the hospital with my father. And I’ll be going back in a little while. Not really sure what’s going on, but the truth is he’s in the best place. People can watch and see what’s going on with his body and hopefully evaluate and find some answers. He had a moment this morning and I think it’s scared everybody involved. His wife, me, those that are close to him.

Someone else close to me is also having to walk through their truths today. Sometimes it’s a mess when the ones we’re closest with are where we find seeds of doubt, dishonest thinking, and mob mentality running amok.  Taking one kernel of truth and twisting and molding it  into something that doesn’t even resemble what we knew. Or thought we knew.

The slippery slope of lying or covering up is seductive just like the dark side of the force in Star Wars. It’s tantalizing, it’s easy, it pushes all of the responsibility off of ourselves and onto something or someone else that might be in our path. I watched Luke Skywalker walking into the cave in Empire Strikes Back yesterday. He could’ve just said “no. I’m not going into this cave. I’m not gonna face my fears, I’m not gonna face the truth”. But he did and it was in a way devastating. 

Spoiler alert, Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker‘s daddy! If you don’t know that already, stop reading - Go watch the movies! 

Luke has to face the truth. He has to walk into the cave, face it and then walk out. What he does with that truth is up to him. He’s given a choice later on of whether he’s going to stay in the light or move towards the dark. And that is his choice. But he at least has the truth as he was facing that decision.

Knowing what we’re truly facing, knowing the truth does make a huge difference.

And the truth, the light, they come with work and effort. Oh, they’re easy to see, but they’re hard to live. Our entire world, our capitalist, politically jarring culture wants us to find something to be negative about. It’s easy to dive into the dark side into slander when we don’t know all the answers.

Honestly, do you really know the truth? I only know one truth. The truth is that I was broken and beaten and dying and I was saved by the light. I found faith. I found something to hold onto. And no, I don’t think everyone has the same exact faith. I’m not preaching to you, please find yours. But my truth, it starts with one place and it does bring peace.

If you’re shouting ‘truth’ at the top of your lungs and it doesn’t garner peace, there’s probably something wrong. If you’re trying to breed controversy, if you’re trying to stir the crowd, those are not actions of truth. At least not in my view. Truth comes from steadfast, one day at a time living towards something bigger. Something that matters. Something that won’t eat you up from inside. Something that does bring a peace that remains even amidst the hard times, the times where there is confrontation, when there is a battle ahead of you.

Breathe…

When the dust settles, and words are shed, and we look into the heart of those around us, do you see the light that comes from compassion, hope, faith?

For me, I long to be seen as someone who has fought through the cave and seeks light - bright sunlight on my face, a warm feeling in my chest, love and kindness…

And truth.

~ Peace

The Burtle 

(upward) mobility

What would happen if your entire life was shattered? If everything that you have worked for, everything you thought you were doing that was good, that was honorable - that was the right thing was gone? Shattered? 

What would you do if you lost the ability to simply walk? 

The two relate.

In all of our running around, I think sometimes we forget that we only have 2 feet. I know that I am definitely guilty of spending more money on shoes than any other clothing item. I want them to be comfortable, functional, and something that I like to wear. And I want to protect my feet! I only get two!!

So what if you lost that ability to move? What if your legs stopped moving? What if you woke one morning and you were stuck? What happens when we lose the ability to be mobile? 

I have a dear lady who just recently has gone through just that. Shattered hip and now will be facing quite a bit of a recovery time. I haven’t talked to them, because she and her husband are older and I knew to give them space for the moment. What does life hold when you have to stop?

Five years ago I had to stop. Not because I couldn’t walk, well in a lot of ways I couldn’t walk, but I was more emotionally/spiritually paralyzed. What happens when we can’t move anymore? What happens when everything that we’ve been pushing for is just a vapor and we’re left standing there scratching our heads, or worse we’re left broken and beaten found laying on the floor? By the way, that broken part is exactly where I ended up.

One step, two steps, 15 steps, sit down and rest. I told my group this morning that when I first got clean that I couldn’t even get outside. I didn’t know how to emotionally or physically take the 15 steps to get out the door. In the midst I had a dear man tell me to just make it to the door and walk outside and breathe. I didn’t have to go down the steps and I didn’t have to go around the block and I didn’t have to do anything else other than just take those few steps. I did, and it was torture. Because at that point I might as well have had a broken leg or a fractured meniscus. I was broken and beaten and I just didn’t know how.

Thankfully, there were people who came along and helped me to learn that. To learn how to move, even breathe. The thing is, it is about movement. We have to keep moving. Our life isn’t meant to be stagnant, and even sitting still and meditating is a form of moving our mind and moving our emotional or spiritual muscles. 

I’m praying for my friends recovery. That she and her husband can walk through this with as little trouble as possible. But I know it will be hard. 

I also pray for those who have simply lost the ability to move. And I mean that in all the ways; physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. 

Our upward mobility might also come from something much bigger… Faith in a moment or truly trusting and believing that there is a bigger power moving us through this cosmos, that our little presence is still important in the bigger scheme of things. 

If you’re stuck, maybe stop for a moment - I mean, you’re stuck, it’s not like you’re going anywhere. I bet there’s someone around you who might be there if you look.  I know that I found those voices when I was least expecting them. At just the right time. And maybe you might realize that this big Father figure in the sky is right there beside you.  Encouraging you on.

Our mobility only takes one breath, one moment, one step at a time.

~ Peace

The Burtle 

*prayers for Sharon and Jim. Love you both!!

Death to Life

It’s funny how we live our days, we trudge through adversity, we laugh through the silly, we look at those around us and yet we don’t see the hurt that many carry.

We converse, we tell stories, we work side-by-side, but do we really know? Do we really know what’s going on inside those around us? Those closest to us, possibly standing right beside?

It’s hard to know someone’s heart. It’s hard to know the things that drive them and the things that are tearing them apart inside. Often times we never know until it’s too late. What if we could show them that in the struggle with death, the struggle with the dark that there is light? There is hope. That there is life! 

I went on a 20 year journey. And in that 20 years I produced a lot of hurt, made a lot of mistakes, and every day I had this terrible feeling that I wasn’t enough. Shame and bitterness were tearing me apart. Every day I wanted to not be here.

And then one day I did. In one radical moment I was asked a simple question, and I responded with words I had never heard from inside my spirit or inside my head. 

“I want to live.

I just don’t know how.”

A 20 year journey that led to life.

And on the precipice of another anniversary, I hope that anyone who’s listening might realize that you’re not alone. I shared parts of my story with someone tonight, parts I haven’t shared before with them. Because they needed to know. I wanted them to understand.

2020, in the days leading up to me saying those words, I was in a tailspin of self-destruction that I was sure would lead me to the end. Having just been released from the hospital yet again, I was going to be successful this time. I was going to finally be free.

The question… “What do you want Chad?” led to the realization that there might be hope. That the journey wasn’t coming to an end, it was taking a right hand turn that would change every aspect of my life.

In the last five years there have only been a handful of times that I’ve even had an inkling of a thought of the darkness. The emptiness that is there came from a lifting of the shroud that I thought would never go away. Any heaviness that I feel now is nothing compared to the years of trying to carry the heavy burden myself.

I choose life. Every single day. And even when it’s too cold in my drafty house, or it’s just a little too much to face the happy people in the God-box, when I miss my kids more than I know how to express, I do know that I get to do this thing! I choose to do this thing! Life.

If you are struggling with thoughts of exiting this life, I ask you to take just a moment and realize that it does suck, it does feel like the world is going to come to an end, it does want to kick your ass every fucking day, but it’s not. It doesn’t have to. There is hope.  If you’re hiding hurts, find a place to share. There’s so much more out there.

Maybe in opening up and sharing the hard, there’s a lifting of the spirit. For me, it took a faith in something much greater than myself to come away from a life of depression, drugs, and depravity.

And just to be honest, I believe in God. I’m so thankful for that still, soft voice that asked me a question.

One I answered from a deeper place than I have ever known, where my spirit was just crying out to be.

To just be…

Still.

~ Peace

The Burtle

Facing Death

We all face death. There is no alternative.

Some people fear it, other people ignore it and some play with fire a little too much and get really close to the edge with it. 

Regardless, it is a reality. There is no freezer chamber where we can go be with Walt Disney and Ted Williams (if they really are frozen). 

The thing about death is it gives us the chance to look a little deeper at Life. Hopefully it allows us to stop and look back at the person who has gone on and reflect upon their life, and maybe even reflect upon our own. 

What choices have we made? What decisions do we regret, what things do we wish we had done differently? Where did we succeed, where did we miss a connection and where did we just fail? 

According to your beliefs death can be the end, it can be the beginning, it can be entering into nothingness. That’s not the debate here. I’ve got my own thoughts on that and they do align with life after, but right now it’s about this moment. 

How do we face it now? When it’s right in front of us, how do we face the loss of a life? Do we grieve, do we struggle? Do we break down and cry? Do we do nothing at all? Because we just don’t know what to do. 

There’s no right way to face death. There is only the ability to know we can get up tomorrow morning and we can do our day and hope that we’re adding to this life. Adding to our own life but even more than that maybe we’re adding to others. That the cumulative whole of us adding more positive in this world will give back. Give back to our own lives, but also give to those who might not understand that there’s more. There is more than just the 9 to 5 and there is more than just working till Friday. Maybe there’s something bigger to believe and that we might find if we just open our hearts and our minds to what’s out there.

When I get to the end, I hope it will be said that I was a man of Faith and a good man. Possibly even a combination of Mark Twain and Rhett Butler!

What will your life say at the end? What if we took the time to think about that now, today? What would you change? What would you do differently?

~ Peace

The Burtle

The Grey

Sorrow comes in many ways. It can come from loss, from disappointment. It can come from miscommunications or even just loneliness that dwells inside.

Sorrow can seep in like a cloud and cover your days just as easily as it covers over your spirit - feeling the grey.

It’s cold. Numbing certain senses while pricking deep others.

The grey, as I’ve begun to call it doesn’t follow patterns, moving rather like those same clouds mentioned above.

It sits on my presence and hovers.

And then it either grows truly dark, like dangerously dark, or it dissolves into the background as light starts to peek through.

It is always light that cracks its hold on my spirit. Sunlight, spirit light - it’s so amazing that the nature around us can be healing and inside we need that same kind of relief from the grey.

It comes from deeper belief, and even our simple attitude to try to look up and look beyond the cold to move forward. I know in the past I’ve stumbled and stayed stuck in the grey for much longer than I needed to. Holding onto the fears, the uncertainty, the bitterness inside that comes from just wishing things were a little different. A little brighter on a cloudy day.

Possibly wishing I had a little more. Or didn’t struggle quite as much. 

But then I realize the lie that I’m telling myself. Because I have so much. And even when it’s grey, I do have people that care, kids that actually seem to love me, and I do have my faith. And that is quite a lot. 

I may not have the material trappings like some of the people that I know, but I have so much more than others. 

And I have truth. Truth that has carried me through years of the grey. 

~ Peace

The Burtle

Sometimes I just sit and cry.

Not because I want to;

Not because the sky is falling.

Just because.

Because it feels heavy -

And I feel alone.

And even on a day filled with a lot of good depression still sits. Ready to have a smothering affect on my soul.

So that’s where I am.

Nothing blatant.

Nothing that will destroy me - unless I let it.

But tears come.

Been thinking a lot about the last five years. And even though I know we’re not supposed to dwell in the past, it sits. 

So many people say that five years is when things starts to click, and I think they’re probably right. That doesn’t mean that I’m able to understand my fucked up emotions - and even as grateful as I am, I often feel alone. And I just wanna be held. 

And loved.

Thankful for my group - the meeting that has been there since day one (well day three because I was avoiding the cult of AA at first!). I shared this morning that I remember clearly when God asked… “what do you want Chad?”

And I’m grateful for every breath over those years.  ALL of them, going back to the beginning, 53 years. Because they gave me these scars and a story.  One I’ll tell to anyone who asks - given the motives are right.

I don’t seek any pulpit, honestly I just want to walk like my friend Rich did. No, I didn’t know Rich Mullins, but I feel like he got it - the gospel how I read it and want so hard to believe, even as I’m fighting with that same God.

It’s raining outside.

And inside.

And it will be ok.

 - - - -

Have you ever thought about what other people around you carry? The sadness, the hurt, the pent-up anger, even joy that has been suppressed because of relationships that are hard or struggles in their life. Do you ever stop and wonder what’s going on in their lives?

We ALL have stuff. 

And maybe that’s a place we can connect instead of DISconnect.

Maybe?

~ Peace

The Burtle 

Rich Mullins - hard to get

Home

There is a mythical place called Home. Some people would call it Sanctuary, others a ‘safe place to land’, still others would call it the Jones’s house in the perfect neighborhood just up the street.

But Home isn’t stuck between four walls. Sometimes Home is an old pickup truck that still treats me better than most human beings! (And still the safest place to cry)

Home is a place inside ourselves. If you have a faith slant it might just be someplace that’s not even here but is inhabited by a sense of something bigger down the road. 

Home can be in the hands we hold, the voices we whisper to and the people we know give us that sense of belonging.

Home can be in a group of silver-yeared believers who adopt a wild buck that realizes they have more life and love than most modern churchies he’s ever encountered.

Home is akin to Love.  It doesn’t happen without it.  We feel deeply, share openly with those we love and in a sense they are Home.

Home is knowing it’s NOT home alone. We do need others.  From sweet smiles to deeper longings of the spirit and soul.

Home is belonging, being, sharing, caring, listening, crying and loving one another.

Home.

Where’s yours?

~ Peace

The Burtle 

So I did a thing…

Today, my first endeavor putting the words I’ve written together in book form is available. Like Big Boy published (though it was self published, it has a real deal ISBN number and available online!) I’m proud of it and it’s surreal in the same moment.

If you’re interested the link Is below - or just search on that ginormous online seller that originally just sold books (named after a River).

It’s an offering of who I am to the God I love.

Hopefully seen from a perspective that isn’t judgy or religious.

~ Peace 

The Burtle

The Link:

Known, a collection of writings

Parenting is hard.

Whether it’s from 3000 miles away or it’s across the house as they’re sitting 15 feet away from you, the distance might seem just as insurmountable (whether there be physical, mental or even spiritual chasms).

How do we smother them with love when at the same time we want to smother them with a pillow? Not really. But you know you want to shake them every once in a while!

Born of our flesh, they often times have the same psychological make-up that we have. Similar deficiencies and hopefully some of the same beautiful parts in their own unique packages. 

And whether they be 10 or 16 or 26 - they are hard. 

There’s a verse that says, show a child the way they should go (Proverbs 22:6). Sometimes it means directing them towards activities or interests that they may not really want to pursue; sometimes it’s encouraging things you don’t really like yourself, but you know it’s things they enjoy. And sometimes it’s setting up those ugly boundaries that just suck. They suck because they’re hard and they suck because they truly suck the life out of you. 

Parenting is hard. 

Yesterday I got to sit across from my daughter on her 25th birthday. I never imagined we would make it this far. She’s made like me in many ways and at the same time she’s much stronger than I am. She’s faced things that I can say I’ve never had to go through or endure. And she’s doing the best she can every day. 

It’s one of the joys when you see them on the other side. And as we were leaving I looked at her and I said “what’s your faith?”

She hates the question but instead of me telling her exactly what kind of faith she should have, I asked her what she believed. And she told me she had a higher power. She wasn’t sure much beyond that, but that’s a start. Because I would rather her believe in something than nothing. I would rather be able to have the discussion I had with her openly without it being mixed with the anger that she seethes toward people who push faith or her in total silence.

Parenting is hard. 

It’s much harder when we don’t have faith. That means me, my kids, and even the other parent. You can’t manufacture faith in someone who doesn’t believe, but you can pray like hell for them to find something that sticks in their ass and makes them realize that there are bigger mountains to climb.

How do you parent? 

I never feel like I do it well enough, but I try. And for many years I didn’t try. Not to the level of trying i could be proud of - trying to bridge the gap. Find things of interest that a 10 year-old, 25-year-old and a 26-year-old might want to talk about. And I often still fail to find those common grounds. 

I do believe fully that if you try, you’re at least participating.

Talk to them. Talk to them until you’re blue in the face if you have to, but also listen. And when you listen, maybe you’ll find one thread that you can say is common between you. Maybe they’ll see you listening and realize there’s more to communication than just yelling and screaming and then running away or just hiding and trying to slide by without opening up. Because parenting is really relationship. Starts as this protector of life and it develops into one of guide or mentor into hopefully some kind of relationship that might resemble a friendship. Or at least a connection that’s beyond just “do what I say!”

I don’t know if any of this resonates but I just know after several days of talking a lot about parenting and how it does and doesn’t work at times, I know that it’s better when you actually talk with others. Talk about your failures and talk about your hopes for your kids. 

Parenting is hard.

But so worth it.

~ Peace

The Burtle

the tender

I wasn’t raised on the tender.

There wasn’t a focus on when he washed his disciples’ feet or the tears that were shed over the passing of his dear friend. When Mary was there listening attentively, I knew Martha was faithfully doing the ‘right thing’.

We didn’t look at the last meal and have any real thoughts about the fact that his followers embraced him in a loving manner just hours before he prayed for them.  Loved them.  Died for them.

I didn’t know love at all.

I knew performance and prophecy and had a pretty good take on the scriptures from the book - at least the ones that were often bellowed from the pulpit. I’m no theologian, but I knew the message that was being taught. Unfortunately, a lot of times it was wrong.

Not wrong because it was a lie, but wrong because the focus wasn’t on grace and forgiveness and accepting as we are. It was on ‘we accept you more - the more you become like us’. Something that still resonates today, I believe.

Somewhere I missed that message. The tender message of hope through the eyes of love. 

And yet that is the one thing that has kept me here. The love of a being that I don’t understand but I still yell at sometimes, even today. I beg and plead and cry to, and realize that nothing works without him. Without this all powerful being that was so stupid-crazy that he came down and walked among us. 

He came to love.

So the journey more recently has been to understand this love thing. It’s nothing new. I can probably pick out at least five or six of my recent blogs that deal specifically with that topic, but today it’s more specifically about the fact that there are so many places that I used to think about the judgment of God that are truly about the Love of God.

And as I’m still working on the fact that he might just accept me as I am today, red eyed and snotty nosed, dripping with depression, I know that he loves me. 

Instead of asking ‘why?’ I just say very quietly…

“Thank You.”

~ Peace

The Burtle

What we carry.

The past can latch on and just NOT LET GO. 

__________

I had a beautiful conversation this evening with an older couple that I truly adore. Whether they realize it or not, in the few interactions that we’ve had I have come to respect and want to know them more.

At one point, we talked about our pasts. More I talked about mine and they listened, shocker… me talking - but I talked because I do feel a trust and a willingness to share with this couple.

The wife asked me about therapy - not knowing that I am so much on the bandwagon of ‘everybody should talk to someone! Get therapy!!’

Then she told me that she had recently started counseling of her own. Man, she’s a fucking superhero! That is huge! I don’t know if she thought I was serious or being silly, but I think it’s one of the most incredible things to find someone in the late fall/winter of their lives still willing to talk and open up. Walk the journey of healing the past.

I carried my past with me for a long, long time and it became so heavy and so damning. It condemned me well beyond the scars of my youth, and it tried to keep me in my pain and addiction. It tried to kill me.

Funny, even Jesus carried the weight… But then he lifted it up on a tree, and gave it to the Father.

What if we just stopped? What if we took the time to go ‘this needs to be dealt with, and I need help?’

What if we started walking through the pain and started to slowly hand it over to a higher power? Give it somewhere that can actually take care of it instead of continuing to carry it or worse, bury it! Either way it’s going to come out. Maybe it’ll come out in our anger and our frustrations or maybe it can come out in healthy conversations that lead towards peace in our spirit.

I don’t know, except for that it’s worked for me. 

And tonight/early morning as I’m writing this I realize that even when work is shit and I’m tired and frustrated, I still have more peace than I’ve had in any of the years when I was still trying to carry all those past hurts on a daily basis.

So thankful for the conversation tonight. It’s not every day that you meet an superhero!! And I hope to take some time to learn more about them soon.

If you’re still carrying the past, why don’t you look down and realize that you’re standing in the present? And hopefully, with some help let go of that and realize that today is enough, tomorrow will come, and lay those burdens down.

~ Peace

The Burtle