[__ Praise __] less me, more Jesus (in me)

[Christ_empowered]

I was a patched up weakling when I came to my senses and truly repented and got saved. btw: I'm a borderline socialist, so I really hate the term weakling....it just fits who I was, then, too well. ugh. -reality, bites-

nearly 10 years later...

it isn't that I'm 110% on top of all things Christ-like, etc., its just I'm...normal! healthy! smart! well-loved by my (long suffering hard working, wonderful) parents! and...

another family dinner tonight. delicious. not fancy and all that, but good, spicy, quality...and usually, I text mama after dinner and say thanks, offer up some sort of smiley face, and then...yeah, a polite ritual. OK. so, tonight, I was out and about, trying to hunt down the cheapest gas, and...

I got a text from mama. she was hoping I'd enjoyed dinner, lol. so, I stopped and did some polite, warm texts (nothing crazy emo or saccharin, but kind) and...

yeah. meanwhile...

got home and the upstairs neighbors (or people visiting? they're new to me) were stomping and yelling about "he needs to be in the --state hospital-- !!!" and all this junk I get, here and there, and...

-take a breath- it's what poor people go thru, yet again. the difference? well...

Jesus was born into poverty, lived in poverty, and was crucified in part because that was a stigmatized form of execution (read: the state exercising its power to kill wayward subjects) reserved for poor criminals, among others (apparently, some Roman era leaders would have rebellious nobles crucified...I think it added to the shame...stigma, yet again). so, per Scripture...Jesus understand this, of course. and...

reality check: I was poor, or close to it. even then, my long suffering parents provided an (un-deserved!) buffer, amen. Now? 10 years into knowing Jesus...

I"m not living large and luxe (LOL), but...wow. decent, safe, modest and nice place. transportation. I can even take supplements (again, nothing fancy; I'm mostly into mega-vitamins, which is just...letter vitamins, at mega-doses...). so, I dunno. It isn't that I'm "too good" to be poor, its that...

at least -some- of my rapid descent into (thankfully, buffered) poverty seems to have been deliberate-- so called "friends," psychiatrists, on and on. long story. now?

the so-called "friends" are long, long, long gone....and God is using the psych labels I have now (community wide: "Schizophrenia! He should be committed!" clinic: "high functioning Schizoaffective, Bipolar type." difference? -shrug- similar, the latter just acknowledges a strong mood and anxiety/agitation component to The affliction...) to make some kind of meaningful life in the community...more possible. -shrug- I'm thankful for His work in my life. The psych stuff? -shrug- I rather like my counselor. the current prescriber is professional and cordial, but also -very- busy. 3 months, 6 months...based on how long I'm scheduled without another med check, I'd say I'm stable and lucid enough to be on the lower maintenance end of things, Praise God.

If I still lived in poverty -- even buffered -- I'd probably need to be in a hospital or something, at least...periodically. Poverty is rough. Poverty plus labels and stigma, plus general contempt and outcast status...blah. I kind of think that if the gov't would tweak the programs to give disabled a tad more $$$ and/or work on the quantity and quality of housing...and maybe compensate by paying less for hospitals, less for the fanciest and newest drugs around (-especially- psych drugs...how much $$$ should anyone really be expected to pay for the latest and greatest tranquilizer?), and just...yeah, basically...

rambling. it isn't that I'm "better" than people in and out of hospitals, but God and my parents are making it possible for me to have...a much, much better (again: not luxe, not fancy, not large and in charge...just...decent, humane) quality of life, despite the affliction and the labels (because, honestly, I don't think anyone's mental affliction 110% fits the dsm/icd). and...

yeah. I think maybe someone decided that I should not live here? but thankfully my parents had the resources at their disposal to buy this place in cash, no mortgage. the people were motivated to sell. and...

the new neighbors are renters, which is good for the owners and all, but at a practical level should mean...I don't have as much to worry about? -blah-

I try to remind myself of what happened to -some- state hospital patients as those rather gloomy and horrible institutions sent people out to live in the community...

and some were met with protests and never ending poverty and stigma, too. so, it happens. In my case...


never been to the state hospital or to prison or homeless. never went to prison, never convicted of a felony and...

Spared. God, my parents, my parents' relatives...happens (I am thankful). now? now, I'm running into static and conflict that hits and has hit other Christians with backstories like mine...

so, I'll pray for my enemies and for what I need to bear up under this round of the broad road/real world surrounding me. thankfully, my life -inside- my place is quiet, law abiding, peaceful. maybe this is...to build faith? to learn to lean more into Him and just...see that the world really is fallen and corrupt and I was on the broad road, too, and now...

"for Me or against Me..." that's the big dividing line with human beings. so, hopefully I'll learn to be "wise as serpents, innocent as doves..." and also ever more firmly in the "for Me" camp, because...

wow. broad road. rough place. :-(

thanks!