What would you think if you were told that it would not take much effort and it would happen in just a few months?
What would you feel?
Skepticism, of course.
But say there were sound ideas behind it... Say that there were some very reputable companies endorsing... Say there were people who are very wealthy, very clever, very good with money, who were doing a lot to promote this idea...
I was thinking yesterday about refinancing my home so I could get $10,000 or so to provide a sprinkler system in a group home so my son, Jeremiah, would be accepted into a place that would give him security, comfort, a place free of concerns and worry.
I went to a meeting last night to hear a business proposal.
I am suspicious and skeptical, cynical and circumspect.
Still, it makes sense.
What if I could have those things that others have... the new car, the large house, money to fly to Aruba, scuba dive the great barrier reef, buy art.
My car would smell nice... clean, new.
The house would be decorated, fabrics and colors and doodads and tchotchkes all purchased and set in place by someone who knew what shapes and colors and textures work well together.
When I think of living that sort of life, as comfortable as it sounds, unease rises...
In 1972 and 1973 I was a part of “The Jesus Movement.” I was a Jesus freak.
I “witnessed” constantly, my naivete’ driven by internal passions I didn’t understand, a spiritual dimension to who I was that needed release I found in the clumsy asocial actions of a teenager.
There was a man in Costa Mesa. He drove a beat up green Datsun pick up. His living room was filled with old bread and blemished produce gathered from grocers. He fed the poor. His small kitchen had a tiny refrigerator beside a tiny stove beside a cot that served him for a bed.
The rest of the house was walled off and rented out to a dress maker.
Brother Michael had cataracts fogging his gentle eyes.
I went on to other things.... Yoga, hitchhiking, being a milkman... About fifteen years later I read about Brother Michael in the Orange County Register.
He had been wealthy. Owned strip malls, apartments, hotels.
He
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Moving on... I’m changing topics, but leaving the above fragment of a post... I know I will never get back to finishing it, and this time I'm just going to leave it here.
Last night I was offered what sounds like a very good financial opportunity. It makes sense. The posh homes, new cars... even celebrities lined up to help...
That isn’t me...
I will probably always be a little tight on $. Hey... that’s what He wants, so I’m not interested in having a little more stuff that owns me.
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Brenda sent a text yesterday. Jeremiah has been leaving messages at the center where he spends Mondays with other handicapped adults. He said he was sad. He said he has lost his mom. He said he has lost his dog. He said he lost his cousin. He lost his dad.
It didn’t make sense, but Jeremiah has trouble expressing himself. I know he has a lot going on inside and I need to help guide him through this tough time.
I exchanged a number of emails regarding group homes for Jeremiah. All the group homes contacted so far are wary of the legal responsibilities in taking in a resident who has set a fire.
He needs much.
If he does not begin drawing on the funds set aside to help someone in his position by June, the money goes away for ever.
He could have a safe life.
He misses Rocky. I do too. I still get up in the middle of the night, and walking into the living room I expect to hear that silly dog's tail thumping.
Jeremiah has had some very hard things happen in his life. Aside from the problems with his mind, his knees are malformed, his feet have been beaten and broken, his head has bumps and dents.
I showed him how to bathe 15 years ago.
I’ve left him alone since.
Tonight I went in to the bathroom, he was in the tub. I took out the hair clippers.
The buzz always makes him uncomfortable, so I moved slowly and gently.
He doesn’t particularly like a haircut... so I just gently trimmed around his face, cutting the hair away to make a nice shape.
He simply won’t shave.
I slowly moved the shears all over his face, trimming his nearly invisible beard close to his skin.
I lathered his face. Shaved him.
I could see how he was judging how close I pressed the blade, how I moved in this direction here, that direction there.
I’ve reminded him often about washing his back. I bought him a back scrubber long ago, but I don’t think he uses it.
I washed his back, his shoulders.
I love Jeremiah.
I’m not sure what it is like for him... the way he sees the world.
I know he has many emotions. They roll around in his heart, and he has trouble expressing them.
I couldn’t seem to fall asleep last night. The clock said it was after midnight the last time I looked. I was up when I thought it was time... and got out of the shower to see it was 4:30.
My children are handicapped and ...
Ah... I don’t know what I’m saying.
I’ve written about my faith quite a bit. But I don’t think I am really that spiritual.
Isn’t that odd?
I believe I am essentially spirit. I believe I am truly much more than can be expressed in human form. When I take on the rest of me that cannot blossom here...
Someday Jeremiah will shed this body of his that was beaten and starved. Someday Jeremiah will have all his intellect, all his heart, all his feelings, all that is his beyond what can be sensed now. His eternal self.
I would like to be more faithful.
I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m just running down a forest path... the trees and ferns make me zig, zag... I can't see around the bend in the wooded trails. I don’t know what my future is. I don’t know what I can do for Jeremiah.
But I know I love him. I want him to have a good life.
He would be happiest if he had his own life.
How do I finish this parenting job?
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Sorry about the twists and turns of this post... not really much a cohesive point.
I need to get some sleep.
First... I need to go talk to Jeremiah.
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I just had a wonderful conversation with Jeremiah about all sorts of things.
At the end of it I asked him what he thought of me.
He said: "You are nice. You work hard. You dress nice."
That's funny.
6 comments:
Hang in Will.....I cannot imagine all that you have to fight against....maybe you're like me and in the fighting against we can miss who is fighting for us...I don't know and not my place to guess and yet what I read here shows me a man who seeks after Him and His heart and while that may seem crazy in this world it's not in His....You are an amazing brother and I look so forward to meeting you in heaven....someday you and your family....ok maybe that's weird just wanted to say Hang In and got carried away....b
Hey, you're one of my favorite Jesus Freaks!!! Guess what? You've been nominated for an award. Check out my post dated 12/10/2008. Right click on the award image to save it to your computer (I'm sure the pretty thingie/award image, will add a feminine touch to your blog), then you can add it to your blog.
To accept your award, you only need respond to three questions and post them to your blog.
Love in Christ,
:)
How about a random response?
In this case, 'skeptical' is your best friend.
Some day I want to hear more about Brother Michael over a cup of coffee...
You have a better grasp on loving-kindness than anyone else I know. You are a far better parent than most.
And you could do worse than a little BB King...
Peace to you my friend. I know you're tired. But you're doing fine. Better than fine. :)
Yes, Will you are doing very good indeed.
I highly respect and admire you.
Stay away from something that seems too good. $$ wise.
Love is all there is:-)
And all anyone ever need.
Consider this: What if, on your death bed, Jeremiah sits beside you, reaches up, grabs the skin on his neck, and begins stretching it. Then, it begins peeling off...and before you know it, he has pulled off a "mask" and it is Jesus underneath.
I believe that WILL happen. And, I believe that Jesus will smile and hug you for treating Him so well.
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