So I had a conversation with a friend recently concerning relationships and how they play out at Gardner-Webb. Honestly, I didn't do much talking (but I feel that those are the times in which I am most effectively used) and that the person needed someone off of which to bounce some ideas. I was more than willing to be that sounding board for him.
Eventually the conversation turned at a couple of points and I found myself discussing some of my issues with the role of 'best friend' in my life. This may require a little of background, so get ready cause we're diving into David's past for a bit. Make sure you have a good supply of oxygen-there's no coming up for air where we're going.
So when I was younger I attended a Lutheran Elementary/Middle school (basically kindergarten through 8th grade). Well, ever since I could remember my time there I had been best friends with Timmy Snell. David Bell and Timmy Snell-our last names rhymed, so clearly we were destined to be best friends forever. Well for our elementary experience, we were best friends-we had sleepovers, went on adventures and hung out a whole lot. It was pretty awesome to have someone you knew you could rely on (although, I question what exactly i would need someone to rely on when I was so young...). Anyway, once we hit 5th grade, popularity and image became a lot more important. Well, I never got that memo and so I was REALLY, really lame and uncool. Now, I don't this was the only factor, but I feel it was a pretty big chunk of the falling out between Timmy and I. He basically tossed me to the curb and I was left to fend for myself. Luckily, there were some other classmates who I connected with and it wasn't the end of my world, but I never found another best friend character throughout middle school.
Well, high school comes along and to make a long and boring story short-I had no best friend in high school either. There were a couple of people that I grew close to, but no one who I felt was someone I could rely on and turn to in times of trouble. Similar story for my first year at G-Dubb.
However, my sophomore year comes along and I find friends, who I might classify as the closest thing to best friends that I have. Now they weren't perfect and they don't fulfill the complete image I have in my mind of a best friend, but they are definitely people I can rely on and with whom I have shared a WHOLE lot of memories. I think they know who they are-TI4.
We skip ahead a bit to a conversation I was having with someone who I classify as my smartest friend and discussing the issue of a best friend. I pointed to David and Jonathan's relationship (a popular reference for people to use in regards to male friendships) and complained that I wanted a friend who I could trust like David and Jonathan trusted each other (I needed a Jonathan!). Well, my brilliant friend pointed to the fact that David didn't start with the relationship with Jonathan; no, he spent years alone in the fields with the sheep, with just God and the sheep as his company. Before I even try to find someone to be my 'best friend' I need to make sure that God is my real 'best friend' and that my relationship with Him is solidified before I go looking to someone else.
You may not agree with this assessment, you may even think it sounds childish and ridiculous. And that's fine-that's your opinion. However, I have found great comfort in this, but also a great challenge-what is my motivation for the things I do? Is it to further my relationship with God? Or is seeking for meaning from inadequate sources?
David
"David was the youngest. Now the three oldest followed Saul, but David went back and forth from Saul to tend his father's flock at Bethlehem." I Samuel 17:14-15
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Blessed
Yesterday I was reminded of how blessed I truly am, and yet I still complain about minute details. This is not to say they are insignificant, for in all reality they are very important to me, but that's not much I can do to influence the results-so they become minute.
Job is an amazing individual. Plain and simple; even if you are not religious, you have to admit that Job provides a great example for enduring trials. If you haven't read Job, you should pick it up. But and I think I've given this advice before, you have to be in a "good place"; if you are torn up this book will rip you further. There again maybe that's what it takes-maybe you need to be destroyed so you can be rebuilt into something new.
One of my friends pointed me to the 13th chapter, verse 15 in which Job says that even if God were to kill him, still Job would have faith and hope in Him. I am still in awe of the power of that statement. I have difficulty trusting people in general, but even more so when they give me a reason not to trust them. So the idea of trusting someone even if they 'cause' bad things to happen to you astounds me. I can't do it.
Now, I am a very forgiving person. I always tell people, there will never be a time where I don't love you-I will always love you; I may not like you, but I will always love you. But that's about the only thing they get; from that moment on I will regard them with hesitation-whether they realize it or not.
Job had it all and lost it all. Yet, he remained secure in his faith. That, my friends, is strength.
David
"Though He slay me, I will hope in Him." Job 13:15
Job is an amazing individual. Plain and simple; even if you are not religious, you have to admit that Job provides a great example for enduring trials. If you haven't read Job, you should pick it up. But and I think I've given this advice before, you have to be in a "good place"; if you are torn up this book will rip you further. There again maybe that's what it takes-maybe you need to be destroyed so you can be rebuilt into something new.
One of my friends pointed me to the 13th chapter, verse 15 in which Job says that even if God were to kill him, still Job would have faith and hope in Him. I am still in awe of the power of that statement. I have difficulty trusting people in general, but even more so when they give me a reason not to trust them. So the idea of trusting someone even if they 'cause' bad things to happen to you astounds me. I can't do it.
Now, I am a very forgiving person. I always tell people, there will never be a time where I don't love you-I will always love you; I may not like you, but I will always love you. But that's about the only thing they get; from that moment on I will regard them with hesitation-whether they realize it or not.
Job had it all and lost it all. Yet, he remained secure in his faith. That, my friends, is strength.
David
"Though He slay me, I will hope in Him." Job 13:15
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Immortality
Jealousy and 'fitting in'. These may be the biggest struggles in my life. I am a thoroughly jealous person and do not really do well with the whole popular thing.
So, for the past few weeks, I have been sending a few of my friends Bible verses through text messages. Now this is as much for me as it is for them (in fact, it is probably more for me than for them). This is all well and good, yeah? but what is the effective ends of this? Does it inspire the recipients to reflect on the passage and take time to think about the Word? Is it just one more wave in a sea of endless texts, one that is quickly forgotten/ignored as life goes on?
Is there more I should be doing? Would it be effectual for me to do anything else? or would it also just be ignored? I don't know. Clearly. But I have been thinking lately about whether I am making a difference or not. I spoke with one of my Grad friends and she assured me that I was most certainly making a difference-although in a different manner than I was thinking. This was eye-opening for me! I had become so focused on the future and on certain aspects of my life, that I was absolutely neglecting other portions of who I am and what I do. It was nice to hear the affirmation, but even better to be reminded that I need to live here and now and not get bogged down by Satan's ploys.
Really, it all comes down to my focus. If my focus is not on God, then how can I know the path He is calling me to follow? Sure, I can guess and grope around in the dark, but I've never really been the kind of person to go into something unprepared and lost. Why should my life be any different? I am tired of letting my emotions change as often as the time; though all the world desert me, still my God loves me.
Later, gator
David
“What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the world remains and is immortal.” -Albert Pine
So, for the past few weeks, I have been sending a few of my friends Bible verses through text messages. Now this is as much for me as it is for them (in fact, it is probably more for me than for them). This is all well and good, yeah? but what is the effective ends of this? Does it inspire the recipients to reflect on the passage and take time to think about the Word? Is it just one more wave in a sea of endless texts, one that is quickly forgotten/ignored as life goes on?
Is there more I should be doing? Would it be effectual for me to do anything else? or would it also just be ignored? I don't know. Clearly. But I have been thinking lately about whether I am making a difference or not. I spoke with one of my Grad friends and she assured me that I was most certainly making a difference-although in a different manner than I was thinking. This was eye-opening for me! I had become so focused on the future and on certain aspects of my life, that I was absolutely neglecting other portions of who I am and what I do. It was nice to hear the affirmation, but even better to be reminded that I need to live here and now and not get bogged down by Satan's ploys.
Really, it all comes down to my focus. If my focus is not on God, then how can I know the path He is calling me to follow? Sure, I can guess and grope around in the dark, but I've never really been the kind of person to go into something unprepared and lost. Why should my life be any different? I am tired of letting my emotions change as often as the time; though all the world desert me, still my God loves me.
Later, gator
David
“What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the world remains and is immortal.” -Albert Pine
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Reflections from Easter break
So people have been asking about my blog lately-so I figured I could give you guys something.
Have you ever just cared so much for the well-being of another person that you were willing to give up everything you had in order to better their life? I imagine parents feel this for their children (I say 'imagine' because not being a parent, I can't say for sure). I know this is how God feels for us.
A lot of you will probably find this ridiculous, but I find myself caring far greater about other people and their welfare than my own. I always envisioned my death being a means of salvation for someone else in some form or other. I often look for ways to serve-lead by example; demonstrate my love through service.
There are thousands of opportunities for us to live as examples. But we don't always take them-sometimes, we purposely avoid them. We want to be seen as cool, rather than be a good model. Sometimes, we convince ourselves if we can just get an in, then we can change them through those actions. And maybe we can-I don't know, I clearly don't hold all the answers despite what some may believe.
Anyway, I have recently been thinking about taking some steps to help someone in need. Idk why I am writing this in the blog, I mean you don't know the person or the situation, but I guess it is comforting to know that I have spoken about it-it makes it more real to me. But it may not happen anyway, who knows? Regardless, this person will continue to be in my prayers and I ask that you guys keep me in your prayers concerning this.
I know it's not much and it's kind of random/scattered, but it's my blog so get over it :-P
Later, gator
David
"Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his for his friends." John 15:13
Have you ever just cared so much for the well-being of another person that you were willing to give up everything you had in order to better their life? I imagine parents feel this for their children (I say 'imagine' because not being a parent, I can't say for sure). I know this is how God feels for us.
A lot of you will probably find this ridiculous, but I find myself caring far greater about other people and their welfare than my own. I always envisioned my death being a means of salvation for someone else in some form or other. I often look for ways to serve-lead by example; demonstrate my love through service.
There are thousands of opportunities for us to live as examples. But we don't always take them-sometimes, we purposely avoid them. We want to be seen as cool, rather than be a good model. Sometimes, we convince ourselves if we can just get an in, then we can change them through those actions. And maybe we can-I don't know, I clearly don't hold all the answers despite what some may believe.
Anyway, I have recently been thinking about taking some steps to help someone in need. Idk why I am writing this in the blog, I mean you don't know the person or the situation, but I guess it is comforting to know that I have spoken about it-it makes it more real to me. But it may not happen anyway, who knows? Regardless, this person will continue to be in my prayers and I ask that you guys keep me in your prayers concerning this.
I know it's not much and it's kind of random/scattered, but it's my blog so get over it :-P
Later, gator
David
"Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his for his friends." John 15:13
Friday, March 5, 2010
Role Models
Why am I writing this blog? Mostly it is as a means of finding clarity within my thoughts. Also, it is a way of working through issues that I am dealing with, as well as those I see prevalent throughout my community. There again, I write so that you will read it and reflect on it; find some nugget hidden deep within it and find something of value (intrinsic or otherwise).
As most of you know, I am an avid fan of Star Wars-probably not the biggest fan, but perhaps the biggest fan I know (Trey is probably up there, too). Well, I am reading a book from the series 'Legacy of the Force' and it brings up a great deal of questions for me. Right now, there is a thirteen year-old boy who has come face to face with death-he is responsible for killing two people, one armed and the other unarmed. He is also a Jedi, sworn to defend and promote peace-yet, he is being used to propagate war and destruction. All because he idolizes his older cousin, who is also a Jedi.
Has this ever happened to you? Allowing yourself to fall deeper and deeper into an unsavory position all because of idolization of another individual? I know that I have gone down this road; I was young and impressionable and didn't want to lose the perceived connection I had with the person. For this reason (as well as others), I find that I am a huge advocate for mentors and positive role models for young adults. There are too many bad influences in today's society to simply ignore these formative years. Most of you know my strong commitment to discipleship and my desire to see good Christian examples stand up and help guide their younger peers.
It is so easy to get lost in the glitz and glamour of the world and to ignore the less flashy life we lead. But don't give up on your example-even if you see no results, don't throw in the towel. You may be planting a seed that someone else will harvest; it may seem thankless at times, but remember those who receive accolades here on earth have have gotten their share.
I would like to close with these two things: 1)I want to thank all of you who have taken the time to invest in someone else and to pour into their life when they needed an example like you; 2)I want to thank all those who have poured into my life and helped me to be the man I am today-flawed, though I be; fallible, though I be-God still uses me.
David
As most of you know, I am an avid fan of Star Wars-probably not the biggest fan, but perhaps the biggest fan I know (Trey is probably up there, too). Well, I am reading a book from the series 'Legacy of the Force' and it brings up a great deal of questions for me. Right now, there is a thirteen year-old boy who has come face to face with death-he is responsible for killing two people, one armed and the other unarmed. He is also a Jedi, sworn to defend and promote peace-yet, he is being used to propagate war and destruction. All because he idolizes his older cousin, who is also a Jedi.
Has this ever happened to you? Allowing yourself to fall deeper and deeper into an unsavory position all because of idolization of another individual? I know that I have gone down this road; I was young and impressionable and didn't want to lose the perceived connection I had with the person. For this reason (as well as others), I find that I am a huge advocate for mentors and positive role models for young adults. There are too many bad influences in today's society to simply ignore these formative years. Most of you know my strong commitment to discipleship and my desire to see good Christian examples stand up and help guide their younger peers.
It is so easy to get lost in the glitz and glamour of the world and to ignore the less flashy life we lead. But don't give up on your example-even if you see no results, don't throw in the towel. You may be planting a seed that someone else will harvest; it may seem thankless at times, but remember those who receive accolades here on earth have have gotten their share.
I would like to close with these two things: 1)I want to thank all of you who have taken the time to invest in someone else and to pour into their life when they needed an example like you; 2)I want to thank all those who have poured into my life and helped me to be the man I am today-flawed, though I be; fallible, though I be-God still uses me.
David
Friday, February 26, 2010
Where, o death, is your sting? Where, o death, is your victory?
I have experienced quite a lot of death in the past year(ish). It is definitely something I would rather not have to deal with, but as people always say, death is a part of life. So in this post I am going to walk through some of the pain that I have concerning death and losing loved ones. Hopefully, it will help.
I lost two of my grandparents before I could really remember much-my mom's mom and my dad's dad. I never knew my maternal grandmother and all the memories I have of my paternal grandfather come from pictures. I recently found out this past Christmas that I was actually in England when my paternal grandfather died and I could have seen him before he died, but my aunts/uncles didn't want us to be there and get upset. I was really upset to hear that I could have been there in my grandfather's last moments, but I was kept away. I guess that is kind of the story of all of my family deaths.
My maternal grandfather died when I was still young-maybe ten, I'm not really sure. He died in England, while my family was in Florida. I was young and asked whether it was mom's dad or dad's dad-I couldn't remember. Well, this upset my mom and my older brother snapped at me-that is probably the most vivid part of my memory of my maternal grandfather's death. I didn't go to the funeral service or memorial or anything-I had school and things to take care of in the states, but my mom went. I guess I am kind of curious now as to how it went, I wasn't then.
Intermittent throughout the rest of my adolescence were deaths, but they were friends of my parents and it didn't really affect me. I was till under the impression that I was invincible and that death wasn't likely to happen to me.
Perhaps the hardest death I have experienced happened last January. Last year was my first year in the School of Divinity and my very first class in Graduate School was New Testament I with Dr. Goodman. I had heard a lot of horror stories from students about difficult the class was going to be and ho hard I would have to work just to get even a B. The limited experience I had in encounters with Dr. Goodman, he just seemed to have an unbelievable presence and it was clear that this man knew what he was talking about; I was more than a little intimidated. So when I first walked into class, I spent the first class worried to death that I was going to fail the class or else say something stupid and be made a fool in front of this genius of a man. Well as the year went on, I was not so stressed about this class and I actually fell in love with Dr. Goodman’s teaching style and his overflowing wealth of knowledge. I never dreaded getting up at 7 on Monday mornings and I was always eager to hear what new mind-shattering information Dr. Goodman had to tell us that day. It was easily my favorite class that semester. In fact, I was upset when I heard that Dr. Goodman would be taking a sabbatical and would not be teaching in the Spring-I wanted to take as many classes as I could with this man! Almost everyday before class started, Dr. Goodman would read a selection from a sermon or piece written by Frederick Buechner and I couldn’t get enough of what this man had to say; sometimes I felt that he was speaking directly to me. For my birthday, a friend of mine bought me a collection of Buechner’s work as a daily devotional-it was amazing! And I was so excited to tell Dr. Goodman about it; however, my birthday was during exams and I never found time between studying for and taking exams and dealing with my residents in my building to go and talk to Dr. Goodman about it. No problem, I would catch one day when he came in next semester.
The next semester started and life, as always was stressful at the beginning of the semester, so once again I did not have much free time. And then I received a phone call on January thirteenth from Meagan Allen asking if I had heard about Dr. Goodman. I said no and asked what happened. She told me that he had had a heart attack; I asked if he was ok. She said no, and that he had died. I just broke down.
Granted I had not known Dr. Goodman as much as some of the other students and faculty, but in the small amount of time in which I knew him, he had had a huge impact on my life and I couldn’t believe he had died. I would never get another opportunity to tell him how much I loved his class or the fact that I was reading Buechner. Death was a foreign concept to me; I had lost grandparents, but I was too young to really remember their deaths. I went to class that day numb, not sure what to expect from the faculty or the students. When I got there, there wasn’t the usual bustle, instead everyone sat silently-not sure what to do. Dr. Canoy came in and gave some detail about how it happened and told us about a memorial service at 1 in the chapel. Then he told us we could leave and left himself. I didn’t know what to do; I was too stunned to just get up and leave. So I just sat in my seat and started crying. Claire Torrence was sitting beside me and offered me a tissue and we just sat there crying for I don’t know how long. Eventually I gathered myself enough to get up and walk back to my room; however, I knew I couldn’t sit in my room by myself, so I went to lunch in the cafeteria. Probably not the best idea, as I said before people can usually tell when something is wrong and so I spent my time in the cafeteria crying to my friends when they asked what was up. After lunch I went over to the chapel and found a seat next to a friend and once again started crying as people began sharing their stories about Dr. Goodman. I don’t think I have ever cried more in my life than I did that day. Death is not something I like to deal with, especially when it is premature.
When I had gotten over the initial grief of Dr. Goodman’s death (which lasted a number of days), I shifted to anger. It is very difficult to find comfort in God when you are experiencing so much pain and hurt. I was angry at the fact that people didn’t care; that they lived their lives as if nothing had happened. I was angry that we were starting up classes again so quickly, without giving students and faculty time to collect themselves. I was angry with every Sunday School answer that people gave me about death and how Dr. Goodman was in a better place, or my favorite ‘God must have needed him more than we did’. But most of all I was angry at God; angry that he took someone who I really admired and sought to learn from, angry that he had taken him when he was still young leaving behind a wife and two growing boys. I was angry that God wouldn’t answer my questions that I continued to raise before Him. I was so angry that I stopped talking with God; if he wasn’t going to talk to me, why should I bother talking to Him? Not only that but if I did have a good day, I felt guilty because I felt like I should be constantly mourning the loss of Dr. Goodman. I felt like no one understood what I was going through and so I kept it all inside, showing outwardly that I was upset, but choosing not to reveal what was going on and my anger about Dr. Goodman’s death.
Somehow I made it day by day (don’t ask me how, for the most part I don’t remember the specifics of those days) and managed to go on with life. However, I never let go of that anger and almost hatred that I held for God. Each week dragged by with friends constantly asking me how I was and me shrugging it off and saying I was just having a bad day and that everything would be ok. It wasn’t until Dr. Qualls asked to sit down and have lunch together that I realized how impossible it was for me to come to terms with this event if I didn’t turn to God. The more I ignored Him and went out of my way to be angry at Him, the less I would be able to heal and find comfort. After lunch, I decided it was time to talk to God again. I went to Dover Chapel and went into the prayer room just to the left as you enter. I grabbed a Bible and just opened it; it was one of those devotional bibles that have sections devoted to various topics. The page I opened to spoke about God answering if we seek after Him, referencing the verses in Matthew about knocking, etc. Well, I do not believe in coincidence, so I knew there was some importance to this, so I got on my knees and just began pouring out to God, asking my questions and seeking some comfort. Well, a few hours passed (it didn’t feel like I had been there that long) and even though I didn’t have the answers to my questions, I did have an overwhelming feeling of comfort-something I hadn’t felt in a very long time.
Even as I write this now, I find tears coming to my eyes, every time I think about it, I can't help but feel the pain and sorrow that surrounded me during that time.
Well, a few months down the road, my paternal grandmother was not doing well. She was dealing with broken bones that would never heal, as well as memory loss. She couldn't recognize her children or grandchildren. Once again, I was not able to visit her before she died in April. Not only that, but I was away from my family. I was torn apart. I broke down a lot during this time, especially to one particular friend (of whom I am greatly appreciative) and didn't want to be around people. However, I will say that if I had not experienced the death earlier in the year-I don't know how I would have handled it when my grandmother died. I did not get to go the funeral service, however, it was recorded on a tape and my family and I listened to it over the summer. It still hurts, but I refuse to fall into despair.
Death hurts. Period. It is never easy to lose someone you love and be expected to go about things normally. My advice is to take the time to grieve; find someone you can cry to, scream to, pray with, take comfort from. But most importantly, don't turn from God-it doesn't remove the hurt and only furthers the feelings of isolation. "It is in those moments, my son, when I carried you."
In memory of all the loved ones lost,
David
I lost two of my grandparents before I could really remember much-my mom's mom and my dad's dad. I never knew my maternal grandmother and all the memories I have of my paternal grandfather come from pictures. I recently found out this past Christmas that I was actually in England when my paternal grandfather died and I could have seen him before he died, but my aunts/uncles didn't want us to be there and get upset. I was really upset to hear that I could have been there in my grandfather's last moments, but I was kept away. I guess that is kind of the story of all of my family deaths.
My maternal grandfather died when I was still young-maybe ten, I'm not really sure. He died in England, while my family was in Florida. I was young and asked whether it was mom's dad or dad's dad-I couldn't remember. Well, this upset my mom and my older brother snapped at me-that is probably the most vivid part of my memory of my maternal grandfather's death. I didn't go to the funeral service or memorial or anything-I had school and things to take care of in the states, but my mom went. I guess I am kind of curious now as to how it went, I wasn't then.
Intermittent throughout the rest of my adolescence were deaths, but they were friends of my parents and it didn't really affect me. I was till under the impression that I was invincible and that death wasn't likely to happen to me.
Perhaps the hardest death I have experienced happened last January. Last year was my first year in the School of Divinity and my very first class in Graduate School was New Testament I with Dr. Goodman. I had heard a lot of horror stories from students about difficult the class was going to be and ho hard I would have to work just to get even a B. The limited experience I had in encounters with Dr. Goodman, he just seemed to have an unbelievable presence and it was clear that this man knew what he was talking about; I was more than a little intimidated. So when I first walked into class, I spent the first class worried to death that I was going to fail the class or else say something stupid and be made a fool in front of this genius of a man. Well as the year went on, I was not so stressed about this class and I actually fell in love with Dr. Goodman’s teaching style and his overflowing wealth of knowledge. I never dreaded getting up at 7 on Monday mornings and I was always eager to hear what new mind-shattering information Dr. Goodman had to tell us that day. It was easily my favorite class that semester. In fact, I was upset when I heard that Dr. Goodman would be taking a sabbatical and would not be teaching in the Spring-I wanted to take as many classes as I could with this man! Almost everyday before class started, Dr. Goodman would read a selection from a sermon or piece written by Frederick Buechner and I couldn’t get enough of what this man had to say; sometimes I felt that he was speaking directly to me. For my birthday, a friend of mine bought me a collection of Buechner’s work as a daily devotional-it was amazing! And I was so excited to tell Dr. Goodman about it; however, my birthday was during exams and I never found time between studying for and taking exams and dealing with my residents in my building to go and talk to Dr. Goodman about it. No problem, I would catch one day when he came in next semester.
The next semester started and life, as always was stressful at the beginning of the semester, so once again I did not have much free time. And then I received a phone call on January thirteenth from Meagan Allen asking if I had heard about Dr. Goodman. I said no and asked what happened. She told me that he had had a heart attack; I asked if he was ok. She said no, and that he had died. I just broke down.
Granted I had not known Dr. Goodman as much as some of the other students and faculty, but in the small amount of time in which I knew him, he had had a huge impact on my life and I couldn’t believe he had died. I would never get another opportunity to tell him how much I loved his class or the fact that I was reading Buechner. Death was a foreign concept to me; I had lost grandparents, but I was too young to really remember their deaths. I went to class that day numb, not sure what to expect from the faculty or the students. When I got there, there wasn’t the usual bustle, instead everyone sat silently-not sure what to do. Dr. Canoy came in and gave some detail about how it happened and told us about a memorial service at 1 in the chapel. Then he told us we could leave and left himself. I didn’t know what to do; I was too stunned to just get up and leave. So I just sat in my seat and started crying. Claire Torrence was sitting beside me and offered me a tissue and we just sat there crying for I don’t know how long. Eventually I gathered myself enough to get up and walk back to my room; however, I knew I couldn’t sit in my room by myself, so I went to lunch in the cafeteria. Probably not the best idea, as I said before people can usually tell when something is wrong and so I spent my time in the cafeteria crying to my friends when they asked what was up. After lunch I went over to the chapel and found a seat next to a friend and once again started crying as people began sharing their stories about Dr. Goodman. I don’t think I have ever cried more in my life than I did that day. Death is not something I like to deal with, especially when it is premature.
When I had gotten over the initial grief of Dr. Goodman’s death (which lasted a number of days), I shifted to anger. It is very difficult to find comfort in God when you are experiencing so much pain and hurt. I was angry at the fact that people didn’t care; that they lived their lives as if nothing had happened. I was angry that we were starting up classes again so quickly, without giving students and faculty time to collect themselves. I was angry with every Sunday School answer that people gave me about death and how Dr. Goodman was in a better place, or my favorite ‘God must have needed him more than we did’. But most of all I was angry at God; angry that he took someone who I really admired and sought to learn from, angry that he had taken him when he was still young leaving behind a wife and two growing boys. I was angry that God wouldn’t answer my questions that I continued to raise before Him. I was so angry that I stopped talking with God; if he wasn’t going to talk to me, why should I bother talking to Him? Not only that but if I did have a good day, I felt guilty because I felt like I should be constantly mourning the loss of Dr. Goodman. I felt like no one understood what I was going through and so I kept it all inside, showing outwardly that I was upset, but choosing not to reveal what was going on and my anger about Dr. Goodman’s death.
Somehow I made it day by day (don’t ask me how, for the most part I don’t remember the specifics of those days) and managed to go on with life. However, I never let go of that anger and almost hatred that I held for God. Each week dragged by with friends constantly asking me how I was and me shrugging it off and saying I was just having a bad day and that everything would be ok. It wasn’t until Dr. Qualls asked to sit down and have lunch together that I realized how impossible it was for me to come to terms with this event if I didn’t turn to God. The more I ignored Him and went out of my way to be angry at Him, the less I would be able to heal and find comfort. After lunch, I decided it was time to talk to God again. I went to Dover Chapel and went into the prayer room just to the left as you enter. I grabbed a Bible and just opened it; it was one of those devotional bibles that have sections devoted to various topics. The page I opened to spoke about God answering if we seek after Him, referencing the verses in Matthew about knocking, etc. Well, I do not believe in coincidence, so I knew there was some importance to this, so I got on my knees and just began pouring out to God, asking my questions and seeking some comfort. Well, a few hours passed (it didn’t feel like I had been there that long) and even though I didn’t have the answers to my questions, I did have an overwhelming feeling of comfort-something I hadn’t felt in a very long time.
Even as I write this now, I find tears coming to my eyes, every time I think about it, I can't help but feel the pain and sorrow that surrounded me during that time.
Well, a few months down the road, my paternal grandmother was not doing well. She was dealing with broken bones that would never heal, as well as memory loss. She couldn't recognize her children or grandchildren. Once again, I was not able to visit her before she died in April. Not only that, but I was away from my family. I was torn apart. I broke down a lot during this time, especially to one particular friend (of whom I am greatly appreciative) and didn't want to be around people. However, I will say that if I had not experienced the death earlier in the year-I don't know how I would have handled it when my grandmother died. I did not get to go the funeral service, however, it was recorded on a tape and my family and I listened to it over the summer. It still hurts, but I refuse to fall into despair.
Death hurts. Period. It is never easy to lose someone you love and be expected to go about things normally. My advice is to take the time to grieve; find someone you can cry to, scream to, pray with, take comfort from. But most importantly, don't turn from God-it doesn't remove the hurt and only furthers the feelings of isolation. "It is in those moments, my son, when I carried you."
In memory of all the loved ones lost,
David
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
When Peace like a river attendeth my way....
Hey there blogging world! So it has recently come to my attention that apparently people talk about my blog-that is very strange for me. Really this is a means of me working through some stuff in my life and occasionally providing inspiration or to encourage thought. So when I see that people are genuinely interested in what I say, it kind of baffles me. So thanks for reading and I hope you know you can talk to me in person if you have any questions, etc.
So I have found peace recently. If you have been reading my blog you know that I was going through some hurt here lately. Let me clear something up-there is no one particular person or incident which lead to that blog post. I was having a really bad night and needed to vent-and when those kinds of nights happen, I blog about it, get over it and find peace with God's help. So for those who were wondering, yes, I am doing much better and I am actually quite happy right now.
No matter how much stuff I've got going on in my life, whenever I get the opportunity to work with youth, my life just seems to fall into place and those stresses seem to disappear. I don't know, helping/mentoring people is kind of a means of recharging for me and so I really enjoy it.
Peace is not contingent on my surroundings or the people in my life, so there is no reason I should let them influence my own peace.
Later, gator
David
So I have found peace recently. If you have been reading my blog you know that I was going through some hurt here lately. Let me clear something up-there is no one particular person or incident which lead to that blog post. I was having a really bad night and needed to vent-and when those kinds of nights happen, I blog about it, get over it and find peace with God's help. So for those who were wondering, yes, I am doing much better and I am actually quite happy right now.
No matter how much stuff I've got going on in my life, whenever I get the opportunity to work with youth, my life just seems to fall into place and those stresses seem to disappear. I don't know, helping/mentoring people is kind of a means of recharging for me and so I really enjoy it.
Peace is not contingent on my surroundings or the people in my life, so there is no reason I should let them influence my own peace.
Later, gator
David
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