Updated: Sep 7, 2020
I wear three crosses around my neck. The first is wood surrounded by black iron, perhaps the size of a silver half-dollar. I like to think this one represents the true cross, lumber with unfortunate fasteners. The second is a silver Celtic cross that I found on Facebook and procured for no other reason that I was working a twelve-hour shift as a CoVid-19 mitigator RN, which is to say doing nothing much. I back up the nurses who actually take care of patients from the other side of a negative pressure door, and get them drugs and supplies and guard the refrigerator from roving packs of hungry housekeepers notorious for stealing keto-friendly frozen meals. I buy things when I'm bored. It's a character defect, undoubtedly. Third is a cross lazer-cut into dog tags. Yes, I spelled laser with a "z," as it should be. I work at a VA hospital and am a veteran of a foreign war- well, a cold war- The Korean war ended with a cease fire and not a proclamation of peace, and I served on the DMZ for a year, so I'm officially VFW. But mostly I tell people I'm a veteran of a foreign war, and when they ask me whether I served in Iraq or Afghanistan, I reply "I don't like to talk about it," because, you know, the trauma. The trauma I know nothing about. I feel insecure a lot of the time, so I use misdirection as a protective mechanism. It's a character defect, undoubtedly.
The point is, wearing three crosses appears to most people to be overkill. I mean, we get it, you're a Christian. But three? That's just gaudy, bordering on hubris. But you see, it's not for them, it's for me. I wear these crosses around my neck to remind me that I'm totally fucked without God running every single aspect of my life. So, I'm fucked most of the time, because I'm an agrestal rapscallion and a spiritual mutineer, yet have very little power in choosing to consistently do the next right thing. This is something you should keep in mind as you read my blog. I'm not doing this for you- its for me. Sorry, I'm self-centered. It's a character defect, undoubtedly.
But I think so far it's off to a nice start. I'm being honest about myself, at least. I'm not packed in with the 99 sheep the Shepherd still sees, I'm the lost sheep trapped in a ravine butting his head into a rock, trying to get back to the pack- do sheeps come in packs? No, I mean flock. Wolves come in packs. And multiple flocks are flocken, which is also the German word for flakes. I was addicted to raisin bran for a while whilst in my fifth treatment for alcohol abuse disorder. Why are they not called raisin flakes? That is about as authentic a name as one could desire for a cereal composed of raisins and flakes. My girlfriend is of German descent- that's why I mention it. She is not a flake, though she sometimes calls me a crumb. That's a nice way of saying "fucktard." But to the point, I am grateful the stone I am butting my head against is the Cornerstone, Christ. Jesus says "Whomever falls on this stone will be broken; but on whomever it falls, it will grind him into powder." And then there's me, a crumb with a sheep head banging upside the stone as it breaks or vaporizes everybody else. Who has it better than me? I'll tell you who- nobody.
I feel like at a certain point I lost track of what I was trying to communicate to you, the reader. I suppose that's okay, as this is my first post on my first blog and have no readers nor any idea how to actually obtain readers. So, in short, this blog is for me, not for you. However, it is entirely possible that as you read you might find yourself in what I say, even if in minuscule part- probably the part about being insecure, or a fucktard. And if you can relate to me, and you love Jesus in an authentic way like I do- meaning you’re really in touch with how fucked you are without him in the driver’s seat but don't know how to follow Him according to scripture without hitting your head against the Cornerstone until your whole life is a throbbing migraine, but still believe that God has a perfect plan for you and has everything you need to see that plan through even though you're a sheep and a crumb and in general a lot more insane than you give yourself credit for, well then I guess this blog actually IS for you. I didn't mean for it to be that way, but now that it is, I'm glad. I like you.