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Currently Listening The Light of Things Hoped For By Brave Saint Saturn Estrella see related

Goodbye.

You have told me that I am not man enough for you.  Well, where were you when my mother left me to run off and cry or to get high?  Where were you when I was ten years old having to explain that my mom is crazy to a complete stranger?  Where were you when I had to take care of business because no one was there for me?  Where were you when I was abandoned?  Where were you when I needed you?  Where were you when I saw my brother fly across the room from a backhand to the chest?  I now realize that I do now what it is like to be a man.  You anger me by telling me I am not man enough for you.  My tears rolled down my cheek when my brother in Christ was laid to rest.  I never felt more manly.

And now I feel some of the same.  You said you would be there for me, but where are you?  I always strive to be there for you.  But in my time of deepest need -- the ones who say they are there for me are not.  The ones who are there for me need not say anything, they are just there.  Thank you.  Thank you for being more than just a friend.  You are my brothers and sisters.

Sure I have a family that has borne me.  I have a family that loves me simply because I am family.  Yet you love me because it is not of yourself.  You love me because we are made brothers and sisters through a different kind of blood.  I died to my old life.  I was made new.  I am slowly trying to fight a good fight yet it seems though I cannot win.

No, thousands have not fallen by my side.  And I am not that king.  This week one fell.  And he has lifted me up, not taken me down.

Andrew.  We fought the good fight together.  You help me run my race and I can only hope that I helped you run yours.  We died together.  We lived together.  You reached the goal before me.  I am jealous.

Everyday was a struggle for you.  Yet you did not see it as that.  You saw it as life.  You never asked for any pity and you despised it when you got it.  So you don’t get my pity you bum.

Goodbye Andrew, goodbye.  You will be with my for the rest of my life, but I need to say goodbye to you and cherish the memories.

Hope. Glory. What?

What is hope?  Why do we have hope?  Why should I care about the glory of God?  One of my best friends is in a hospital bed.  Has been for nearly three months now.  He has been close to death and in a very real sense is fighting to live.  This has led me though so much emotion and despair.  I have cursed God.  My love for my friend has seemingly usurped that of my love of God.  That is what I wish.  But the truth is – I don't want to deal with death.  I hate the even the remote possibility of it.  Sure, I am okay with my death.  I do not fear my life ending.  But those of my friends?  Yeah.  Basically when I was in fifth or sixth grade my most awesome and spectacular grandmother died.  She was ill, went into the hospital.  I visited her several times, and around February fourteenth she died.  I can't remember the specific date, nor does it matter.  I just remember making a really cool valentine's day card for her.  What does matter is that I remember all too vividly the night she died.  I was staying with my mother at the time.  I remember feeling compelled to pray for my grandmother.  I was by no means a believer at the time, not for another eight years.  I knew my mother always went to church, a catholic church, so I asked her how to pray.  She said, "You just talk to God."  Or something like that.  So I did.  I went and sat down and prayed for my grandmother.  During that time, headlights shown in the front window of the house (where I was).  I knew then that it was my dad.  I knew immediately that my grandmother was dead.  I waited for the knock on the door.  I opened it and my father was just standing there with a look on his face that I had never seen before.  I just hugged him and he hugged me.  I went back into my room I listened to my Mariah Carey c.d.  At the funeral I cried the entire time.  I mean the entire time.  It was too much.  I don't know what came over me but I do know that is the last time I have ever just lost it and was not in control of my emotions to the point where there was nothing I could do to stop.  My dad just held me.  Afterwards, I hated myself.  I prayed too late.  IF only I had prayed earlier, if only I had not waited so long to build up the courage to ask my mom how to pray -- my grandmother died because of me.  That soon led into a hatred of God.  How could He let this happen to her?  And then I got into a the whole state of mind that God did not exist.  I read books by people Richard Leaky and Charles Darwin.  My brother, father and I would go the zoo every weekend and discuss evolution, etc.  (Keep in mind, I was in maybe seventh, eighth grade at this time).  God did not exist in my mind anymore.  Christian were to be made fun of, Church to be scoffed at.  Funny how I had always knew that God existed until that time.