I have so many friends and such a huge support group here in South Carolina. So why do I feel so f'n lonely?
I've seen everyone...Everyone but the person that I want to see most...the one I moved here for.
I miss her so much. It's still hard not to cry sometimes. Like right now, as I turn down an invitation to hangout with friends because I know that it will be just like Tuesday night: sitting all alone with a smile on my face, pretending that I'm happy, when really I'm so f'n bored I could die, so f'n lonely I could cry, and so f'n tired of asking myself, "Why, why, why?"
I hate it when I accidentally start to rhyme. Guess years of Dr. Seuss brainwashing have long term effects. It always confuses people. They start to think, "Is this a poem...or a narrative?" You know what? I don't know, and I don't f'n care.
Sorry about using the term "f'n" so much but nothing else seems to catch the mood that I'm trying to cast. Call it artistic flair, if you'd like. Yes, call it that and then miss the entire point of this post. Whatever helps you sleep at night...for those of you lucky enough to sleep.
I realized today that I haven't had a good night's rest since January. Seriously. But despite regular yawning, my body seems to have adapted well enough. It's amazing what you can do on four hours of sleep.
Well, tonight's going to be a nicotine night. There's no fighting it this time. Third one this week. And here I thought the country air would be good for my health...guess I was wrong...as usual. Probably ought to be used to it by now.
And August 19th is rolling around the corner, faster and faster as if in hopes to crush me. You know, I started planning in December. I guess I should be thankful that I didn't buy the tickets. Looks like I'll spend this one alone...kind of like valentines, except with year old cake.
Well, I guess I shouldn't scratch it out so soon, but it's hard to make alternate plans sitting in a room, talking to yourself...which is all I ever seem to do anymore.
Well, I find myself with free time and no friends, so I've decided that I might as well tell you that story I promised. First off, this happened a number of weeks ago...around the same time my computer stopped working. Well, at that time, my beard wasn't looking so good, (patchy at best) and I often found myself blaming it for my lack of being able to get a better job. It had gotten to the point where I started to wonder if I had made a bad decision in taking the Nazarite vow. I started to wonder if maybe I had done it as an act of self righteousness rather than as an act of following God's will. Now understand, that I was not trying to decide as to whether or not I would continue. I had made the vow, and breaking it is not an option. Even if made under an act of ignorance or stupidity, it was made unto God and I am obliged to keep it. If you doubt that, you may want to read Judges 11, where Jephthah had to offer up his own daughter as a sacrifice because of a poorly chosen vow that he had made. Human sacrificing was considered a great evil, however, in Jephthah's eyes, breaking a vow that was made unto the Lord is even more so. It's a pretty scary thought when you think about it.
So anyways, I knew that I was stuck with the consequences of my vow, at least until it was complete. I started to fear that maybe I hadn't done this with God's approval and doomed myself, in the sense that I would be stuck with the consequences. I knew that if it had been God's will for me to take on the Nazarite vow, that he would bless it and that I could trust him to do so. I thought it had been God's will at the time, but now I wasn't so sure. This bothered me for days. I was beginning to fear that I had made some horrible mistake.
Then, a few weeks back, I had gotten out of the shower, when out of nowhere a thought flew into my head. I love it when this happens because I know that the thought did not come from me. I am a progressive thinker in the sense that ever thought I have is preceded by a serious of smaller thoughts that lead up and build up to the main thought. I don't just think, "Let's go to Denny's!" without first recognizing that I am hungry and thinking about what kind of food I would like, what restaurants are nearby, and who is still open. So, when a thought comes from nowhere, I know that it came from one of two sources: Heaven or hell. I then have to decide which of the two it is. This is often relatively easy, because Satan would never want me to do a good thing, and God would never want me to do a bad thing. Simple enough most times.
Anyways, I got out of the shower and out of no where the thought pops into my head, "You should go to the Messianic Temple." I had driven past the building many times before and always wanted to attend one of their services, however I was always either working or would forget about it. However, at the time that this thought popped into my mind, I had not been thinking about the place, or about going to church, or about anything that relates to Christianity or Judaism whatsoever. So, I realized that thought must have come from God, after all, why would Satan ever want me to go to church? So, I thought to myself, "I wonder if I am working this Saturday," to which I recalled that it was, in fact, already Saturday and I didn't have to be at work until 4. I remembered that the service started at 11 and checked my cell to find that it was 10:35. Perfect timing. I immediately got dressed and headed out the door, to arrive at the synagogue just moments before the service started.
I had only been to a couple of Messianic Jewish services before, but most were quite a lot alike. They are all very traditional. In fact, even the scriptures that are read are all preplanned. Every year, on that particular Shabbat (or Saturday) the rabbi reads from a few predetermined chapters. The rabbi picks what he will read and how much he will read from those chapters (often only a few verses or at most, a paragraph or two) but he must read from those chapters chosen for that particular Shabbat. So, there are two different places from the Old Testament that he is to read from and since this was a Messianic congregation (meaning that these Jews also believed in Jesus Christ) they were also to read from a portion of the New Testament which was also preplanned.
So the rabbi begins to tell which chapters the first reading is to be from and proceeds to say that he had chosen a passage from Numbers chapter 6. As anyone who reads this xanga knows, that is the chapter that describes the vow of the Nazarite. "Wow, what a coincidence," I thought to myself, "that I would show up on the day he reads the Nazarite passage."
As he goes to read the next scripture, he tells of how the scripture will be from one of a few chapters of Judges, and I thought to myself, "No...way..." Sure enough, he reads from Judges 13, where the angel of the Lord tells Samson's parents that he is to be a Nazarite from birth. I was dumbfounded. There is no way that this could be a coincidence...that both of the scriptures that the rabbi chose from the preset list be the very ones I studied before making my vow, and that I should be attending this particular service. I realized that the Lord was most likely trying to tell me something.
But alas, there is more. Though, Numbers 6 talks about making and keeping the vow, it doesn't explain much about starting it. I had decided at the time that since hair growth was the sign of the covenant, that I should shave my entire head to start the covenant. It seemed logical to me, although I had others question me about it and tell me that shaving your head is not part of the vow. I will admit that this did bother me a little. I wasn't trying to be legalistic, but I make a vow to God, I want to do it right. Well, the rabbi still had one scripture to read and this one was to come from the New Testament. Would you know that he chose a piece from Acts 21, a scripture that I had not read in some time and had completely forgotten even existed? In this part of the New Testament, we find Paul shaving his head as a part of a vow of purification. A vow of purification?! Which is really the main reason behind the Nazarite vow...to purify and consecrate yourself to God.
Need God say more?
It was obvious to me now why God told me to attend that particular service. He was showing me by a divine act of "chance" that He was behind my decision to become a Nazarite and was even behind the shaving of my head. I know this because the fact that these three scriptures were "randomly" chosen on the day that I "randomly" decided to attend (having not even realized that it was a Saturday) is beyond the scope of chance and probability. Any doubt that I had walking in that morning, quickly disappeared. I now knew that I was doing just what God wanted me to do. Other people don't seem to understand it, but I don't mind. I didn't do it for them.
PS: Even though all three scriptures read spoke directly to me, the rabbi's actually message had absolutely nothing to do with Nazarites or vows. lol
So much to tell you guys I don't know where to start, plus it would take me hours to tell it all, but lets just say my life is finally looking up. 1. Jamela and I are on speaking terms again which is something I can credit only to the grace of God and a whole lot of prayer. 2. I'm moving back to Seneca where I will be much closer to the people I care about. 3. God has opened the door for me to get my old job back where I will be full time once again. 4. In a miraculous way, God confirmed to me that he really is behind my Nazarite vow and has been from the very beginning. (Awesome story, I'll try to tell it later.) 5. God is good all the time and he teaches me that everyday.
PS. My computer's still broken. I'm using someone else's right now.
Apparently my electronic devices all hate me. My cell phone stopped working for a couple days, but I got that taken care of. My laptop is the one that really scares me. For the several months, the charger's been acting up. It would stop working randomly. Eventually, it would only work if I had it plugged in "just right." I even duct taped it into position to keep from losing the location. Now the sweet spot seems to be gone. It will charge for a half a second...wait ten seconds...than the light will blink on again. If I can't keep it charged, there's no way I will be able to use it regularly. It'll be dead in a week. I even bought a new charger and tried to plug it in, but it didn't work. The problem must be internal. I unscrewed all the screws on the back to see if I could fix it myself, but it wouldn't come off entirely and I was scared of breaking it worse.
Anyways, if I'm not on here for a while, you know why. I probably won't be answering my emails either. If you need me call me.
Emotions, blogging, and another sleepless night on the couch
Why is it that everytime my heart aches inside, the first thing I do is post it on Xanga? I could feel like screaming and dying and yet I somehow feel obligated to let you all know about it. Why? Could it be because misery loves company? Maybe. Could it be because I have no one else to talk to? No. I have a few...not many...but a few. Could it be because I hate actually telling people about my problems and would rather they find out for themselves on here? Yeah, possibly.
But the fact remains, no matter what I tell you guys..no matter how much I hurt...there's nothing any of you can do about it. All you can do is show sympathy with your kind comments and tell me the things that you think I need to hear. And does that help? No, not really. I mean, it's good to know that someone cares, but nothing changes...nothing improves...and I don't really feel any better afterward.
I guess the real reason I post any of these blogs is because a part of me hopes that she still reads them...that she still cares enough to want to know what's going on in my life. And that maybe...just maybe...she'll see that I never made a promise to her that I didn't intend to keep, and that I will continue keeping them until the day I die...and that maybe she will realize that I can be more loyal to her, more loving to her, more faithful to her than anyone else in the world...that I would never leave her...never hurt her...never put anyone or anything but God above her...and that maybe...just maybe...she'll start talking to me again...and then maybe...just maybe...she'll give us another chance...at that maybe...just maybe...I can show myself to her...prove myself to her...improve myself for her...and then maybe...just maybe...she'll love me again and we can have that marriage...that family...that life that we both dreamed of.
It's a long shot, I know, but it is my fervent hope and dream.
Even if I die trying, you can be sure that in the casket my fingers will be crossed.
I guess that's precisely why I talk so openly about my emotions on here:
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