It’s not everyday that I find an inebriated man laying his hands on me, and praying over me. Nevertheless, this was the exact situation that I found myself in while on a business trip in Farmington, NM.
All six of them stood before us, that day, all in a row. We all knew what was coming and it wasn’t good.
I hated these moments and had witnessed them one-too-many times. I never understood why the congregants allowed this archaic practice to take place. Were all of them too fearful to stand up and do something about it?
I found my strength increasing when I surrounded myself with people who inspired me. The strength didn’t come from people doing things for me, but rather from conversation.
As much as I might criticize my friend’s husband, the truth of the matter is that I too struggle with arrogance and pride. I too have a propensity to throw fits of cataclysmic proportions when things do not go my way. No matter how much I would like to deny it, I have a tendency to try to control people and situations through manipulative behaviors. Although, I have surrendered this vice to God, it still beacons for my attention.
it is every believer’s liturgical nightmare to lose their elements while partaking in this sacred sacrament. Sadly, this is exactly what happened to me, this last Sunday, as my communion wafer slipped out of my hands and rolled across the auditorium
I have a history of giving into shame. She’s a beast and my natural tendency is to let her have her way without putting up much of a fight. However, in that moment I felt something that I had not felt in a very long time...
From the moment that I lied..., I felt shame and regret. I have yet to attempt to tell a lie that didn’t leave me feeling the same way. As I’ve journeyed through life, I’ve come to the conclusion that that I don’t want to live under a cloud of shame.
Anxiety is a hideous beast that I’ve previously overcome. Prior this episode, I hadn’t had a full-blown anxiety attack for years. Somehow, this one snuck into my peaceful existence and created quite a disruption.
For quite some time, my emotional health could be compared to a bottle of soda-pop that had been violently shaken and was waiting to surprise any person who dared to open it. In turn, my emotional pain began to manifest in other ways.
For years, I gave people the power to define masculinity for me. This confused the heck out of me. Truth is, I’ve been given an example of who I want to model my life after….
I had never witnessed death knocking at the door of someone’s life before. I was also very clueless as to how ugly and cruel death could be.
There was a time in my life when I literally hated the sound of my name. Somewhere, in the dark corridors of my mind, I created a story of shame. The story of shame included the sound of my name.
I rushed home, buried my face in my pillow, & began to cry... I felt as if I was losing control. I felt alone. I felt less-than. I felt shame. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way. Why me? I was trapped in a shell of perpetual fear.
Shame is an enemy that you can’t ignore.....
I am loved. I am forgiven. I am redeemed. My life has meaning. My life has purpose. I am not a mistake. I am not my past. My best days are yet to come. God is not finished with me. He has my heart and I belong to him.