Family: The Prayer Of Heaven (I love you Mom, RIP)

In a box underneath a years worth of memories I found the last greeting card my Mom ever gave me.  I knew it was there, right where I left it last Thanksgiving day when I dug it out to hold onto to the closest thing I had to my Mothers touch.  I went looking for it during the night last night when I could not sleep.  I was not looking for comfort for the sadness in my heart, I was looking for something to hold while my heart beat a steady rhythm of pain.

Today marks one year since my Mom ended her walk on earth and climbed those steps into heaven to spend eternity with three of her five children that God took before he called her home.  It was two days before Thanksgiving last year that my brother Jordy and I made the decision to take her off all life support and see if she had the strength to continue her walk on earth.  She did not. 

That day was probably the one day that defined a new relationship between my brother and myself.  Jordy and I are as different as night and day when it comes to our walk on earth.  Same blood, same childhood of abuse, same destination into eternity.  The day we stood in the hallway of the hospital right outside our Mom's room in IC was the day we found the common ground that would match the souls that live inside our bodies.  We revealed to each other our total complete true selves that day.  We bonded beyond the brotherhood we tried to find with each other into what we truly are in the Christian world.  We were children of God, looking for answers, searching for the truth of eternal life, anticipating the day when we will walk again with our Mother and our siblings, Jayson, Joey, and Jacelyn.

I reached down in that box letting my fingers filter down past obituaries, letters, cards, and news clippings I choose to keep.  All holding memories that will never leave my heart but will fade from my mind.  Things I feel the need to hang onto so I can revisit those milestone moments that have helped form me into who I am.  I pulled out the blue envelope that I knew contained the card my Mom had given me for my 19th birthday the prior August.  It was a simple card which was typical of my Mom, "Happy Birthday Son" was printed on the outside with a picture of a birthday cake with a single candle on it.  On the inside was printed "now you are ONE!"  There was a picture of that same cake on the inside and my Mom drew in a second candle in the shape of a nine, making it the number 19, which was my age that day.  We shared a huge laugh on the cuteness of that card, along with an even bigger hug.

My Mom signed that card "love Shirley".  As odd as it may seem to most for a mother to sign her sons birthday card with her birth name on it, it was something she started doing on the cards she gave me since I was fourteen and left home.  I never asked my Mom about why she did that but I suspected that is when she started to feel as if she was not the mother to her son anymore.  That statement pretty much sums up the relationship I had with my Mom from the time we reconnected until the day she died.  I had become more of a parent to my Mom then she was to me.  I still called her mom, but I knew that the typical relationship between a son and his mom was not something we shared anymore and the roles had reversed.  The more time that passed the more I noticed I was making some very minor decisions for my Mom.

From what to wear to what to order when we went out for a meal, the decisions seem to confuse my Mom more and more as the sun rose on a new day.  Once she had her first stroke, it only got more frustrating for her to have to make choices.  When she had her second, major stroke I begin to think about the quality of my Mom's life and what it would be like for her.  The days she spent on machines that were keeping her alive were growing longer and longer as I waited for her to come back to life on her own.  Sometimes I feel as if I knew this was not good, even when I was praying for the best.

The Five Stages of Grief:

Denial.  I was simply in denial that this was happening.  I was in shock and my body grew numb.  This was not happening because I do not want to deal with this.  She will wake up before we decide what we need to do and I will be off the hook.  No one should be 19 and have to make this decision in life, so therefore, it is not real to me.  I am over reacting to this whole scene, it is not as bad as I am thinking it is.  I will go in there and hold Mom's hand and she will open her eyes and we will laugh about last week when she tried to make an over easy egg for her breakfast and it quickly turned to scrambled eggs.

Anger:  My denial had turned to anger as I sat and stared at my Mom in that bed reliving our life in the Bushnell house that now seemed more like a torture chamber than a home.  I was angry at my 'dad', the 'man' that put her through years of abuse.  The 'husband' who was sitting in a prison cell that society put him in as punishment for his crimes against his very own family members.  I was angry that he got to live and my Mom was going to die.  It did not seem right and the angrier I become the more I allowed myself to hate him for doing this to the only parent that ever hugged me and told me she loved me.

Bargaining: I started to deal with God and when I felt he was not listening to me I started to deal with the devil.  I wanted a deal, I wanted to trade whatever I could for my Mom's life.  I was lost in the moments that were leading up to giving the doctors our final decision.  I was desperate, searching and reaching for whatever I could to deal away, even if it was my life for my Moms.  Why was no one listening to me, why was no one willing to bargain with me.  Anger would once again surface when the denial would leave me and the bargaining would be denied. 

Depression: Once I realized what the right thing to do for my Mom was I felt nothing.  I felt empty of all emotions, numb to all feelings inside my heart and mind.  It was as if nothing seemed to matter to me at this moment.  It was the calm before the storm that would take over my entire being as anger once again built up inside of me as I realized that within hours my Mom could be dead, her earth's journey done.  I was withdrawing my emotions from life, helpless in a black hole filled with sadness as life was about to take a new turn in my journey on earth.

Acceptance:  Within hours of making our decision my Mom's life had slipped away and I had accepted God's decision to take her home.  This would be my life now.  I was not happy with the outcome and I expected it to turn out just the opposite as it did.  But this was it and there was no bringing her back.  I would never feel the touch of a mothers love again.  In my mind I was accepting all of this, in my heart I was still in denial, still angry, still trying to make a deal, and still very much deep in a depression I ace at hiding from the world to this day.

A year later I am still fighting the grief of walking through life with my mother gone.  I am still in denial of her being gone. I am still angry with her for leaving a big void in my life that I will never be able to fill.  I still try to bargain with God on my demise, promising to be a better person "if".  I don't know what that "if" is but I still try.  I still fight the depression of a loved one gone.  I still look for answers and try to find reasons on 'why me? why us?'  I still feel guilty for deciding to let her go.  I still love her with all I have and with all my heart.  I still cry because I miss her.  I still pray for the day I will see her again.  It still hurts and I hope it always does.  Because the pain is the only memory I have that keeps all the other memories alive.

Mom,

I miss you more today then I did yesterday but not as much as tomorrow.  I hope you can hear the prayer I say for your ears everyday.  I hope you can feel the hugs I send when I need a hug in return.  I hope you are proud of who I am in today world.  I hope you see how hard I try to keep your spirit alive in how I move through my days on earth.  I miss you Mom, and I long for days of the past when I could sneak up behind you and surprise you with a hug.  I miss your laugh and the smiles we shared.  I miss your holiday cards that only made sense to me and left everyone else wondering if you meant to do that or not.  More than anything in the world I MISS YOU.

I am thankful today that even though you are in God's Kingdom for eternity I had you when you were on your journey on earth.  I am thankful for all you did to protect me as best you could and all you did to teach me things to get me where I am today.  Happy Thanksgiving Mom.  God rest your soul in the peace and happiness you missed out on down here.

Love you with all my heart,
Jett

 “The Prayer of Heaven,”

My God, I adore You and I love You!

Through the hands of the Madonna, with Your grace and help I accept from You, O Lord, at the unexpected hour any kind of death as it will please You to send me, and I ask of You the grace not to have fear of death. Please forgive all of my sins.

I accept my death in union with the Sacrifice that You, O Jesus, High and Eternal Priest, Yourself made on the Cross and that now You renew on many Altars. I intend to offer to You my death in the spirit of the Holy Masses which at that moment will be celebrated and I offer You Your infinite merits to pay for my sins and the penalty of Purgatory.

Saved by Your Blood, through Your merits and those of Your Mother I ask You the same mercy granted to the Good Thief, namely the grace to enter immediately with You into Paradise and to have immediately the perfect Beatific Vision of God. Amen.

I thank You, my Jesus! 

by Monsignor Charles M. Mangan 

Family: A Letter Sent To Heaven

Joey,

I miss you Joey, some day's more than others but everyday I miss you here with me.  It seems it has been one of those days where everywhere I turn there is a reminder of the times we had before you kicked up your walk on earth a notch and went home to God.

This time it was something Lucy wrote on my facebook wall about her step-son learning his letters and drawing a picture.  She wrote (and I quote her)  "My Jimmy is just learning how to put letters together to make small words. Tonight he drew a blue stick figure person with about five suns all over in the pic. Then he wrote the letters "J O E L J" it was so wierd. I thought you would enjoy hearing that."  I responded to Lucy saying that maybe you were looking over her and her family.   

It made me happy in my heart that she still thinks about you and that you give her signs that you are still with us, only in a very different way.  I know you are Joey, I believe with all I am that you are still near all of us that got left behind.  I can feel you, it's almost as if I could reach out and touch the space you occupy.  I don't know what I did, or what happened, that I cannot communicate with you like we were before Mom died.  I keep trying to figure out what I could do differently.  My faith is as strong as it has ever been.  I miss you more than ever.  I keep my mind open and my heart open so you can come in anytime you want to.  

Remember when you were worried you would not get to go to heaven because you did not attend church?  I asked Father Tom today when he came to the house to visit me and see how my injury is healing.  He said absolutely God would still let you into heaven if that is where you were prepared to be.  It was a great conversation about church and it reminded me of you and Aunt OJ talking about that when you were bedridden at the Bushnell house.  We had a great visit about life and death and earth and eternity.  

Father Tom even said something that makes complete sense to me regarding church and faith.  I have many many friends who do not attend church but have a strong faith in God.  He said that it's real sad that some people lose their faith because they are not attending the right church.  Father said that there are many people who attend the same church they grew up with even though they do not believe what the church teaches but they do not feel right seeking out a church that is a better fit for them and how they choose to believe in the teachings of the Bible.  I told him how you happened to come across the catholic teachings of the Bible through Aunt OJ.  We decided you are right where you wanted to be for your eternal life and that it is the same place I am looking forward to when I get my eternal life with God.

I was telling Father Tom about the day you were coming over to the Bushnell house and you and I were going to take Mom out to eat for no reason other then she had never been to Miles Inn (Sioux City, IA) before for one of their famous Charlie Boy sandwich specials.  I told him how you were late, and the later you were the more I worried about how short our time would be together.  When you finally made it I was angry with you for being so late and limiting the time we would get to spend together before we had to be back home so "dad" did not get upset with Mom for leaving that day.   Do you remember what you said to me?  I do.  You said "Kid, someday I will be waiting for you even longer than you had to wait for me."

Father Tom thought that was ironic, that I would remember those words you spoke to me.  He said "And look at where he is today, and how he is in fact, now waiting for you.  Do you suppose he feels he is waiting an eternity for you?"  It made me smile Joey, because you are waiting aren't you?  And I am sure you are more patient waiting for me then I ever was waiting for you.  

After Father Tom left I thought about that whole waiting scene.  I keep waiting for you to come back, and you are waiting for the day I come home to you.  It's both a sad and a happy thought, but it makes me realize, we haven't given up on each other at all.  We are still connected by our Faith as sure as we are connected by our blood.  I have all our memories Joey, the good and the bad, and I think about all of them a lot.  I wish our lives were easier in the Bushnell house but we had some great memories in the dirty Sioux too.  For every memory that makes me cry or angry, there is one right behind it to make me smile and laugh.  I like how so many things in my life still remind me of you or a moment in time we shared.  

I just miss you big today Joey, even though I know you are with me, I miss you voice.  I miss hanging around with you and Mikey and listening to you tell jokes and laugh about your day.  I miss going over to your place and watching you and Mikey annoy Jake.  I miss playing poker with you guys and taking all your pretzels, M&Ms, and Twizzlers when I won the ante pile.  I miss laying next to you in the final days of your life talking about Jesus and how we have to be strong like he was when God took his life in order to save us from our sins.  I miss you, just as much today as I did yesterday and just as much today as I will tomorrow.  

ILY Joey,  keep waiting for me and thanks for being patient while I continue my journey on earth.  

Love, Jett

Friends: Closure or Confirmation?

The worst thing about being laid up with a broken collar bone?  Too much time to allow the mind to wander.  Even though it seems as if it's been much longer, it's only been a week.  The rainbow in this latest down pour of rain I call a bad break (no pun intended) is the opportunity to reach out to those I am long overdue in making contact with. The chance to catch up with everyone was really refreshing as I don't feel I often take the time, or make the time, to really see how everyone is really coming along in their journey on earth.  I am committed to reaching out to more of those on my overdue to talk to list these next seven days which will put me at the two week mark in my injury.

I had the chance to communicate on and off these past seven days with my friend Pastor Jill from Florida.  I met PJ through my Gracie blogs when one of our followers contacted her regarding them and she decided to follow that thread on my blogspot site.  It was not so much the Gracie side of the blogs she was following, but the christian aspect of how they were written.  PJ was concerned for Gracie and prayed for her and her family to find comfort and strength in what they were facing, however it was the faith of the story that drew PJ in.  Her mission as a pastor is working with the youth in her community to help them find faith, and build upon it, as they journey with her on the path of Christianity.

What PJ was looking for in befriending me was an insight to my faith.  While I appreciated her interest in seeking me out to find out where I found faith, I've not ever felt that my faith was strong.  Or at least strong enough for someone to take interest on how it was formed and how it is nurtured and grows as I walk my journey.  PJ flew from Florida to Boston and we met and spent a day together talking about our different takes on the world of God and religion.  We felt we were both on the same page in our paths of life, walking on the same road, only several miles apart, to find our way to Heaven. Through my Administrative Assistant PJ has been given permission to use my blogs to communicate to her youth group students in my walk of faith on earth.

(I think most everyone who follows my work is aware I have an Administrative Assistant who assists me with my blogging.  While working with Gracie on her story and writing my side of Gracie's story, the following of my blogs became so vast so quickly that it was impossible for me to keep up with it all.  Being a full time college student, working at a publishing company as an intern, blogging about so many different topics, with recreational hockey play and spending important time with my Misfit family, it all become overwhelming.  I sought out the help of Ms Lit, my high school English teacher who is also my biggest mentor.  She was more than happy to offer her services as my Admin Assistant to help me keep moving in the right direction and keeping my blog following friends informed and in touch.  Through the help of Ms Lit I am able to stay one step ahead of my goal in becoming an established journalist.)

Pastor Jill is working on an agenda for her next youth group ministry. She decided to check in with me to see what life has been dealing me since we last spoke.  We spoke a lot about faith and how it continues to grow inside of us, often when we do not even know, or feel, that it is. I really like and respect that PJ's lessons are faith based and driven.  She brings this out in her students, teaching them not only what faith is, but helps them see the faith they have in them, and gives them direction in growing their faith.  The one topic PJ and I always agree on is the importance of God and faith in our lives.  I was surprised when I told her of my upcoming trip to attend The Long Island Mediums reading that she was totally 100% in disagreement over this.

She told me "faith is believing what you do not know" and "trying to have someone else confirm your faith and your belief is not having faith".  I was crushed that the friend who believed in me based on my stance on faith was disappointed that I was seeking a medium to confirm the presence of the deceased in my life.  I explained to PJ that I do have faith in after life and eternity.  That I do believe in angels and spirits that fly among us and protect us from ourselves.  This was, and may be, the only topic that PJ and I disagree with completely.  We are on either side of a line drawn between trust and faith.  Thank God we respect each other to remain true to our friendship despite this flaw we found in each other.

I think if you are in the position of losses so great it leaves holes in your heart you would have a better understanding of the need for confirmation of your loved ones being with you.  I am not talking about closure as you often hear of when someone looks for the comfort of things gone wrong with no clear reason or explanation to why they are gone.  My closure came with-in days of each death of a loved one.  I do not fear death, I do not wish to die, but I know to reach our final destination in our journey we will all need to die.  It was not easy to let go of my loved ones, however I know they are in a more beautiful place then they were on earth.  The struggles they faced in their life ended the day God took them home.  I can handle that with complete trust and faith knowing they are at peace in their hearts and their souls are resting in the Promise Land.

I am talking about confirmation that the times I feel them near me, or hear them 'talk' to me, that they are truly there and it is not my imagination playing tricks on me.  I have seen them in my sleep and I have seen them in the most challenging times of my life.  Like when I was sick with mono and I was experiencing some very painful times.  I was so out of it that I could not remember when I took my meds or if I had so I continued to takethem to stop the pain.  I tried to get up to go get more pills for the pain but felt I was being sat on by my brother Joey and he was telling me to relax, everything will be ok.  A peaceful calm came over me as I laid back and relaxed, feeling the weight of my deceased brother on me, preventing me from taking even more medication.  The pain subsided as I drifted off to sleep thinking how comforting it was that Joey was with me and protecting me.  I remembered all the details when I woke up and I felt it was not a dream.

I have had many instances like this but I have never trusted they were not dreams, not matter how real they felt to be.  I have been comforted not only by Joey but also by Gracie.  I have been 'visited' by my mom, and others that have passed over to the other side.  As time goes on and I have lost more and more people in my life to death, I hear more, I see more, I feel more.  I am so ready to see if these visits and conversations can be confirmed by someone outside of my circle of life.  To see if my imagination is running amok or if I am truly being guarded and guided by the angels in my life.

I do miss those that I have lost in life but I do not feel I miss them to the point where I imagine they are communicating with me.  I do not believe it is wrong to want confirmation that what I feel is real.  I do not believe it is a lack of faith or trust in God to ask for this confirmation.  I do believe in God, I do believe in eternity, and I do believe that spirits of the souls gone ahead of me protect and guide us.  What I want to be confirmed is that they communicate with us in a way we can feel them near us.  That they do protect us with a gentle touch to help change our directions.  That they do laugh in our ears and whisper to us with the wind.  That the unexpected turns in our life are those loved ones setting us back on the path God has laid out before us.

I feel it is real, I have faith that they are with me, I want confirmation that my mind does not play tricks on me.  If you've ever felt the hair on your arms move, or if you've ever heard a whisper in the air, or if you've ever felt a touch when no one was there, you know where I am coming from on this topic of debate.  If you've ever suddenly felt a tear drop from your eye without reason, or a warm feeling in your heart, or a tap on your shoulder when you know you're alone, you know what I am trying to get confirmed.

Sometimes the unexplained is just that and things that happen, happen for no reason at all.  Sometimes life just plain messes with you to see how much further it can push you around.  Sometimes you just believe to believe and trust because it's never been broken.  Sometimes your heart hurts because you did a poor job of protecting it against the odds.  Sometimes you just sing and dance because you feel like it.  Sometimes you smile when you see a random act of kindness take place and do not even realize you just did.  Sometimes you get back up when you fall because you know its the right thing to do.  Sometimes you cry when there is nothing to really cry about.  Sometimes you dream because life is good.  Sometimes you have nightmares because life is not good.  Sometimes you love, because you want to be loved back.  Sometimes it's real, and sometimes its not.  Sometimes you trust and sometimes you question that trust.  Sometimes you believe, and sometimes you want to believe. 

My faith in God and his work is stronger then the faith I have in believing and trusting in myself.  There are days when I know I need to build upon both my faith in myself and my faith in God.  Strengthening one, will for certain strengthen the other.  Each passing day I am provided with steps that challenge both my faith and trust.  Each passing day I wake up the next with a stronger belief in both.  Thank you Pastor Jill, for standing up for what you believe, and allowing me to stand up for what I feel is right. 

Faith: Chasing Rainbows, Landing in a Pot of Gold

 What's at the end of your rainbow?

Most days when it rains I push back the dark clouds and look for the rainbow in hopes of falling into a pot of gold.  It's not that I expect things to go the way I have it planned out all the time, but when one dream continues to get crushed and you are uncertain of the other, well, that rainbow seems so far away.

I've never wanted the riches in life most people think of when they fantasize about finding the pot of gold.  And while that is most peoples dreams I am sure there are many others that have their own thoughts about what is in that pot of gold they search for in hopes of enriching their lives.  That pot of gold probably changes out depending on the situation some people find themselves in.

Mine personally never strays far from the original thought of what I would like to find sliding down that rainbow into that pot.  I want to be a writer, not just any writer, I want to change people lives.  My first goal in life was to make it to college and I had plans on skating my way into a scholarship that would provide me with a four year degree in journalism.  Turns out my academics would be more to my advantage to focus on and obtain scholarships through my brain vs my legs. Hockey would become my hobby and I would enjoy it on a whole different level.  I would drop in when time permitted and I would continue to use it as a work-out routine to keep me healthy and in shape.  So I am an inspiring journalist, being formally educated in the art of writing, skating in my spare time.  Due to the realization that I will not make money playing hockey and until I can take off as an established author, hammering out a living on my laptop, I have decided to extend my college time by two years to obtain a career in teaching at the elementary level.

My pot of gold is not about fortune or fame.  We all know teachers are underpaid professionals and I've already established I will not make money with my hockey skills.  I do not even know if I will be successful as a journalist or even if I do how much of a living that will provide me, let alone a family should that path ever cross in front of me.  So what is my pot of gold? What is it that keeps me looking beyond the dark clouds for that rainbow?  When the clouds keep rolling in darkening my dreams and clouding my goals, what is it that keeps me pushing back in life when everything seems so far out of my reach?

I tend to believe that coming from such a dark past where the physical, mental and sexual abuse felt as if it would never end, I have already seen the worse of times in my life.  I would challenge anyone trying to convince me that I would see times as dark as those.  My memories up to the age of seven are scarce but there are some and they are of good times when all my siblings were alive and together.  The memories from age seven up to the age of fourteen are very vivid and often reappear in the form of nightmares.  At the age of fourteen I escaped from the dark side of my life and since that day there have been plenty of rainbows for me to see. 

The thing about rainbows is they do not completely take away the clouds.  Without the rain there are no rainbows.  How we handle the rain is up to us.  If we let the drops control our faith and trust we will surely drown in our own tears.  I believe it is in fact the dark clouds, the rain, the storms that come and go in our lives that are designed to make us stronger.  To help us build our faith in eternal life and our trust in God's plan for us.  Yet knowing this is what I believe it still confuses me that when dark times arise my faith seems to get weaker before it gets stronger.  Not once in my life have I ever failed to come out of a depressing moment stronger and better mentally then I can imagine.  I know this, yet I find myself in moments of weakness questioning the path I am on.

Today I thought about the shadows in my life that never seem to go away.  The things that haunt me from seven years of my life that I had no control over much more then my faith that God would help me through them.  It is as if I cannot let go of the past because it keeps me grounded on where I came from and tells me that where I am headed is a much more peaceful form of life . Do I tend to keep those bad memories alive so I never forget to be thankful for what I now have?  The shadows are a part of who I am and I am coming to realize they will always be with me.  The clouds will always roll in just when everything seems to be going according to my plan.  The rain will fall freely so rainbows can be seen.  I will follow the rainbows until I find my pot of gold.

What is my pot of gold?  Eternal Life.  Yes, someday I will slide down that rainbow right into my pot of gold and when I do I will be rejoined with all those that slid down their rainbow before I have, into the ultimate pot of gold, whether they knew what was in it or not.  Until then I will push back the clouds that darken my days.  Someday I will be that writer I want to be that changes people lives for the better.  It matters not how I get there, as long as I keep overcoming the obstacles I find in my path. 

I will get through this latest storm passing over me and I will come out a better person, a stronger christian, and my faith will be stronger then it was yesterday.  I have a passion for life and if the obstacles placed in front of me are meant to slow me down and help me realize where I am is where I need to be then so be it.  Life is good, no, make that great.  I will take the rain to get the rainbow that will lead me to that big pot of gold in the sky.

Family: Fact over Fiction

As an aspiring journalist the world of words tend to fascinate me.  I spend countless hours reading various forms of words in print.  Outside of the Bible, which I read daily in the mornings and evenings, I read books of all genres from various authors.  I also read newspapers from various city's around the country from the campus library.  Lacking the discipline in good sleeping habits, another from of media I have picked up on is the mobile news I am able to read on my cell phone before I drift off after my day.

I have never really gotten into the political arena of news due to all the slander and name calling that accompanies it.  I also tend to stay away from the violent stories as they seem to knock me back into the shadows of an abusive family life prior to escaping that old life and stepping into a more solid and stable environment. I also tend to stay out of the fiction world when I am reading books, finding that books based on fact are more appealing to me.

Just so we clear up my interpretation of fact verses fiction, fiction to me is 100% make believe.  I find fiction to be someones imagination diving into a world yet unexplored and provides entertainment value only.  I believe there are many great books written based on fiction that help people escape real life for a moment.  I would venture to say that people who live closer to the amercian dream life style enjoy a good fiction story over factual stories.  They are solid and comfortable in the lives they live, have great imaginations and enjoy reading stories that can keep their imaginations alive and satisfy the need the wild ride fiction provides them.

I am more of a factual kind of guy.  I tend to get into, and understand more, a story based on facts.  A story that closely resembles the past I walked through.  A past that, although is real, takes more imagination to understand then a fiction story provides.  I know these stories, I lived these stories, and I can attest to the facts they provide their readers.  As I continue to write stories and publish books I hope I can also continue to help the readers feel the emotions they are not only written in, but the emotions in which they are told.

I am in my third year of college majoring in journalism with a life goal of becoming a writer that can keep actual books in the hands of readers world wide.  Clear back in my youth before I could even read a book, my fondest memories in a house of mental, physical and sexual abuse were the times spent sitting on my mom's lap being read stories from children's books.  The walks to the Morningside Sioux City Public Library branch in Iowa to pick out books that would be read to me by my mom were also part of those fondest memories.  The physical touch of books in my world today provide me with comfort of those lost days gone by.  When I pick up a book and open it I feel an immediate connection to the bond they made between my mom and me.  The loving memories they made between a boy and his mom, when everything else in their world seems to be lost in a world I wish were fiction but was as factual as the shadows they left in my soul.

I am not saying I have never read a story written as fiction, I have, and I have enjoyed them.  They just have never satisfied my hunger to seek out and write stories that show the compassion stories based on fact do.  In all honestly, I am working on seeking out the factual stories of tragic proportions that will better assist me in expressing the factual stories of life that I so want the world to reach out to and read.  I consider true tragic stories to be those things in life that happen for no good of the earth at all.  The stories about gangs and shootings and crime that portray senseless acts of violence to me.  I do not want to follow, or write those stories as there are enough of them in the news media.  I feel I need to read them in an effort to keep me true to the stories I do want to write.

I want to spread the stories of human nature and the struggles we face.  The stories that are great in number but small in being published.  The stories of people lives that are sad, yet encouraging to others. The stories that touch our hearts at a higher level of compassion and our minds at a higher level of intelligence.  The stories that assists us in our self soul-searching efforts to find out who we are and who we need to become.  The stories that allow us to pray for others whether we have met them or not.  The stories that show us how fortunate we are when it comes to our own struggles in life.  The stories that build upon the faith as we continue our journey to eternal life where our souls will live forever.

Last night I was a bit wound up from my hockey game and sleep was no where in sight.  All the other misfits were long asleep before I could even settle back in my bed to begin my nightly ritual of trying to sleep.  I picked up my cell phone and pulled up the Yahoo news feed that I have been reading.  I do not particularly enjoy this news feed but force myself to read it to better learn about what I DO NOT care to write about.  One story caught my attention though, and it was about a helicopter crash in Atlanta that killed to police officers.  It was a rather brief, short on facts, story but this Yahoo News feed I follow allows for reader comments which when I read them makes me want to jump through the screen on my cell phone and verbally assault some of the heartless people who write comments.  For every one compassionate comment praying for the dead officers and their families, there were three that felt the need to comment about "dead pigs show pigs cannot fly" or "two less crooks in the world" or "they have no business snooping into our back yards".  These officers of the law were up in the air searching for a 9 year old boy who had gone missing.

I found this very disturbing, that there is still so much hate in the world that anyone would be happy that two lives have been lost because they were trying to save the life of a child.  What this story did for me was confirm my dedication to bringing stories of hope and faith to the world.  While the story of Gracie was the hardest story I will ever perhaps write and bring to light to those with human compassion, I would much rather cover stories of her nature where as fellow human beings we can relate and pray for others then the tragic stories of hate and self destruction in today's world.

 

Young Blogs: The Darkness With-In

Another old note I wrote over a year ago before I started blogging on this blog site.  I can honestly say I have come a long way since I wrote this blog about the pain I carry inside of me.  I can also honestly say I face the same demons today as I did back then.  Shadows that lurk near me giving me the fear of all my dreams being washed away.  I still carry the fear of the unknown to the questions I have about life that have yet to be answered.  The one thing that has changed greatly is the faith I carry that will grow stronger about who I am, where I am, and where I am heading.  What also remains true is that when my feet are moving I am more comfortable in life then when they are idle and my mind keeps spinning. 

 

THE DARKNESS WITH-IN ...

by Jett Pauling on Saturday, August 27, 2011 at 10:07am 

Words can not describe what I feel on the inside.  Putting them together into sentences do not paint the true picture of the darkness in my soul.  The only way to deal with this is to avoid the pain buried deep inside this tomb we know as the human body.  The only way to avoid the darkness within is to shut down the organs that permit this rented earthly life to drag on and unleash the demons planted inside.

The mind never stops turning, playing me like a fiddle.  Knowledge consumes me, fills my brain with information that merely exists to provide entertainment and conversation.  The more I learn about life outside this shell, the less I have to face my fears.  The more I can keep my feet moving, the less I have to think about what lurks inside my chest.

Freedom means different things to different people.  I will achieve my own personal freedom the day I can truly rest in peace, and have access to all the answers, to all the questions, that no one can provide for me under the stars that lead to the Kingdom.

I am well aware of the people in my life that love me, unconditionally.  I am aware of how big that number is and what those people truly mean to me.  I appreciate each and every one of them in my life that accept me as I am.  I know it is they that keep me breathing, keep me motivated, keep me grounded, in my pursuit to be the person I want to be.  Without my circle of family and friends, living and deceased, the shadows that haunt me would surely have taken away my breath by now.

Life is not an option, and either is death.  At times I feel stuck between wanting to live, and wanting to die.  When my feet are moving, I want to live. I want to accomplish all and defeat the challenges that block my path.  When my feet are idle, my brain works harder.  I am forced to evaluate all that is and all that was.  I relive my past as if I am still in it, fighting to get out, hopeless I will achieve that.  I think about the shadows lurking behind me, ready to extinguish the fires I have burning.  I think about those that have shot past the stars and moved on to the Kingdom, where questions are answered and pain is no more.

In appearance at first glance you might perceive me as a well rounded put together kind of guy who accepts lifes punches, getting back up and moving on when he gets knocked down.  Turn me inside out and you will see that little kid full of fear, never accepted, always rejected.  Stuck between wanting to live, and wanting to die. In the end, who will win?