Let me be clear

Let me be clear.
I post a lot of anti SJW, anti socialist, anti liberal, stuff on social media. I do this because it is necessary. Most of what I post is meme, satire, and sarcasm. One thing needs to be understood though, and it is this. I am first and foremost a Christian. I am commanded by my Lord to love my neighbor, and I do. Those that know me, know I would give the shirt off my back to anyone regardless of who they are, but I will never enable anyone to continue to live in sin or a delusion. None of the presidential candidates fit a Biblical definition of a national leader. We live in a heathen  world. My priorities are; my God, my family, my Church(universal), my country. I have been called a racist for calling out Obama for what he is, a mysoginist for calling Hillary what she is.

Here is my firm belief with everything I know and understand to be true. If you vote for anyone who is pro killing an unborn person, if you are against biblical marriage, if you are ok with distribution of wealth, and call yourself a Christian, at best you do not understand what it means to be Christian; at worst  you are a hypocrite. At the same time, if you believe in violence against anyone who disagrees with your Biblical beliefs and call yourself a Christian you do not understand what it means to be Christian, or you are a hypocrite. Trump or Hillary were not good choices for True Christians.

However, what each of us voted for is a matter of personal conviction between our maker, and the individual. Each of us needs to check ourselves and our convictions and see if they line up with the precepts of Scripture and do our best to live in peace.

That being said if you ask me who I voted for I will tell you with no shame because it was not done lightly, it was done after much prayer, research, and to the best of my ability given the choices I had. After I tell you who voted for if you act with violence towards me or my family; I will without guilt, or trepidation end you. It will not be my desire, but the only defense against violence is violence.

Rain

I am sitting under an umbrella on my patio enjoying a cigar and it starts raining hard, and it hits me. I have set under nothing in a hurricane on Kawaii in monsoon season in the Philippines tailand and many other places in the pacific. Sometimes God rains down on you things that are uncomfortable. The rain never used to bother me now it does. Maybe I need to revisit a couple of things; how God works, and the stewardship of faith.

Of course I am speaking metaphorical. The thunderstorms are a picture of life. God puts us through storms to strengthen our faith. Physically I got used to getting rained on even blind to it when I was in the Army, but when God puts us through storms in life we can't get used to them or we become numb to God speaking to us, or numb to what he is trying to teach us. The church is in a coma and only those of us that are awake can be the sheepdogs

A beautiful soul

A while back I was having a good casual conversation with a friend of the opposite sex. When we concluded our conversation, I told her she had a beautiful soul. She found that to be the most amazing compliment she had ever been given. Now just to clarify, I am a happily married man with a beautiful helpmate. And nothing about the conversation with this woman was secret or sexual, but it got me thinking. Why was this such an amazing compliment to my friend? I started thinking about humans as image bearers of Christ. Scripture teaches that we are image bearers whether we believe in Him or not; we all bear the image of our Creator. It reminded me of a sermon I did on Genesis 1 and 2; it was also a blog post. See: http://dprewitt.blogspot.com/2010/08/signature-of-divine.html

Everyone-Christian or not-bears the image of the Creator. In some it's easy to see that image, for example Mother Teresa. In others it's harder to see-pick any serial killer or perpetrator of a mass shooting. Even politicians bear the image of their Creator. The problem is the context in which each person lives. Their context, along with our own baggage, determines how well we can see the Creator's image in the bearer. Essentially, when I say to anyone, "you have a beautiful soul", I am saying that, because of our conversation and the intimacy of our relationship-regardless of sex, or context-your image, the image of the Creator of the universe that you bear is visible to me. Because of your uniqueness, because of our relationship, and because there are facets of who you are, I am reminded of how amazing this universe and your part in it is. Because I can see even a small picture of Christ in you as an image bearer, you have a beautiful soul. Which leads me to a teaching moment for myself and hopefully others: since we all bear the image of our Creator maybe, just maybe, I should see it in more people than I do. Because, as I put it in the sermon, we are all signatures of the Devine. Everyone in the human race was created as the final touch of the Master's brush on His masterpiece of Creation. So in truth, we all have a beautiful soul; we just need to look for it more in others we meet. There will be more to come on this topic.

Transactional Brotherhood

A good friend, mentor, and brother in Christ once posted a comment to a post I put on Facebook asking the definition of brotherhood. He said, and I am paraphrasing, brotherhood isn't our choice; the problem is that it is seen as a transactional process. Brotherhood is not transactional. When it comes to blood relations, we don't get to choose our parents or our siblings. When it comes to military, we don't get to choose our brothers either; government assigns them. When it comes to the biker community many times it is also not our choice; for those that choose to belong to an organization; the back patch decides. Finally, in Christ we do not decide either; He does. In family, our brothers and sisters are genetically similar; we have the same parents, we have the same cultural and social contexts, and-like them or not-we are related. The same goes for the veteran and biker communities: the connection is different-instead of genetics, it's a patch on the shoulder or on the back. It's months of training to perform a specific task, a specific job, and many specific missions, or years of riding and fellowship together with similar specific tasks and missions. The closest common denominator is genetics or a patch. Genetics is beyond my scope or pay grade to explain, but a piece-or two or three pieces-of cloth sewn together in an ornate fashion that brings out a symbol of unity, a symbol of belonging. What holds that symbol together? To the civilian, it's a simple thread sewn together that if sewn in the right stitch is sturdy. To the veteran, to the club member, to the Church, however there is much more that holds it together than a simple, single, weak thread. It is conviction, it is integrity, it is character, and above all love and respect. In each group, whether it is biker, veteran, or the church, it is much deeper, or should be, than the physical limits of a simple thread that makes an ornate design on some pieces of cloth. It is the interwoven experiences of lives that share a common experience in specific context. For the veteran, it is the experience of  training, discipline, and (for some) combat. For the biker it is very much the same but a different context; as well as the Christian. In the former it is mostly physical; in the latter it is mostly spiritual, but in each case the spiritual and the physical overlap. The struggle comes when we reduce the complex nature of brotherhood to a simple transaction: what can you do for me? As fallen creatures, it is easy for us to oversimplify everything we do. This why we go through the drive-through window for a quick bite of a mystery meat burger in lieu of a good meal. When brotherhood becomes transactional, it becomes the same thing as a fast food burger compared to a prime rib meal with all of the fixings. Brotherhood is not about what you can do for me, it is about what I can do for you. This includes how I can help make your burden lighter; as well as how I can help you make your integrity and character better and vise versa. Brotherhood is a double edged sword; it should, when applied correctly, cut both ways, but if you cut a brother it should only be a cut to heal, or for his gain in health, in love and respect. If you cut at a brother in any other way you have failed your oath as a brother. We should never cut to lose. The churches, veterans and bikers that have not grasped this concept as of yet are missing to a large extent the entire concept of brotherhood; it cannot be approached with any a

ulterial motives. It must only be approached in the utmost love and respect and only from as altruistic a perspective as we can muster. In truth, brotherhood is as close to a marriage relationship a platonic relationship can get. We must be able to accept the others strengths and weaknesses. Applauding the former and in love correcting the other. The first and only question anyone should be asking is am I brother material.

Rolling thunder 2016

Rolling thunder 2016

I have spent a week recuperating and ruminating on my experience of Rolling Thunder 2016, and before I go further I would like to apologize to my fellow vets, my fellow bikers and my fellow patriots. Every individual that knows me, knows I am all of the above a biker, a veteran, and a patriot. I am also a pastor, and a counselor. I have ridden a Harley for most of my adult life. I was brought into the life at a young age by a cousin and it is a very strong part of who I am. I think I can safely say that I have proven myself to not be a poser in any of the above. I am passionate about my community and work hard in the Christian, veteran and biker communities to raise awareness of the issues that exist. My counseling is centered on substance use disorders and I am also very passionate and active in the recovery community. Each of these communities have a single vein of similarity that runs through them, that is brotherhood. My first experience with Rolling Thunder was three years ago: my wife and I went up alone and hooked up with the local Rolling Thunder chapter when we got there and it was a very positive experience. Everything was very organized, well disciplined, and maintained. We had fun and we experienced a myriad of emotions. Being on a run with the explicit purpose of remembering, giving honor, and bringing attention to those that have paid it all will do that. 

This year was different and it had some very strong effects. We rolled out of Lynchburg to meet our group and things went well. We met up with them and continued our pilgrimage to D.C.  We had mechanical difficulties with one bike along the way and we dealt with it made some phone calls and brothers took care of brothers for the most part, but we all got there safe, even though we did some old school bike-towing-a-bike with a 25 ft ratchet strap to get to a place where we could trailer the bike that was down. That bike made the Thunder run though, only because brothers took care of brothers. We took the Patriot HD run to the Pentagon with no issues and waited in the southern parking lot of the Pentagon and hung out. It was a good time, even though it was hot. We had the opportunity to strengthen existing relationships and make a few new ones. There was an accident on the Memorial Bridge which delayed the Thunder Run and it made people a little irritable but nothing was done by the motorcycle ministries present to alleviate that, that I could see. When we got the call to leave and that it was our time, chaos broke out, and thousands of bikes tried to funnel through two exits all at once. No I deal where the Rolling Thunder chapter that was assigned this lot went.No one from any Rolling Thunder Chapter was seen and one cop directing traffic (if you can call it that), no one was anyone guiding anything. It was absolute chaos, to the point that one person almost caused my wife to drop her bike. God, in His providence, did not allow me to meet up with this person after the run. While we did the Thunder Run, we had posers and wanna be's doing s-burnouts between the columns and up the shoulders. Our group almost got separated, but, even with the different riding levels, we stayed together. 

This was my wife's first Rolling Thunder on her own bike, and she did very well, even with the amateurs and posers that were present. My take away is this: even though we had to deal with amateurs and posers, idiots in cages, as well as police that were a disgrace to their badge, it was a great weekend. My wife proved herself to me (not that she needs to), and backed up her road name BAB (Bad Ass Beast) for context see her blog. We strengthened existing relationships and made new ones. It really was a good weekend. On the downside, outside of our local chapter of Rolling Thunder, who has always been spot on; it does seem that Rolling Thunder Inc. and the movement that started the protest, (yes, Rolling Thunder was a protest against the treatment of Vietnam Vets and the lack of effort of our government to find and bring home our boys. It's a protest!) no one seems to realize that any more; it's gone from a movement to a party. I see it now as being less than 20% of those that attend who know and less who understand why it started. I am ashamed for those that lost their military discipline and almost knocked my wife off her bike. I am ashamed for those cages that wouldn't get over or turn off their turn signal so that we could get through. Mostly I am ashamed for the movement that has lost its way. I will continue to go to Rolling Thunder and I will continue to shed tears at the memorials knowing the family tree that has paid all when others would pay nothing. I will continue to plant flags for brothers and sister that I never knew who  have paid everything for our country, our culture and our liberties. I will remember, and I will pass down my memories, my emotions, and my heart to my next generation.  I will always remember. Brotherhood above all else, under God.

Brotherhood

A few months back I sent out a request to some of those that we mutually share the title brother. This is one response. I am still forming my philosophy of brotherhood. Eventually it will be a book. 

For those with affiliations, I mean no disrespect. I have spent my life looking for brotherhood. I have looked for it in street gangs, crews, cliques, and military. This side of the cross I have looked for it in the church, and ministry.

I have been let down every time by every organization. I accept the human element, it is our flaw, our greatest weakness, and our greatest strength. 

There is an old saying, "no man is an island". The truth is we were created for community; we need each other. But, I have learned that brotherhood is more than a name, more than a patch and it runs much deeper than ink. It's more than what we ride.

In my culture there is a saying, "don't bro me if you don't know me"; and one more, "I am my brothers keeper". 

I have those that call me brother; I hope they know the depth and width of that' title. The honor and debt; the oath that it entails 

There are a few I call brother. 

I have brothers that were born to me; we are blood. 

I have brothers that are sworn to me; we are vets. 

I have brothers that have ridden the same roads as I have, though it was at different times and places. I try to never use the term lightly, though I have committed that infraction, and I hope or strive that it is never easily said. 

It's more than a patch; it's more than ink. It's more than what we ride or preach. It has to be mutual; it is a courtship of blood, sweat, and tears in the deepest sense. 

It's easy to die for someone you love; but it's harder to live for them. To live for them is to accept their flaws, their human element. 

To call me brother is to ask for my accountability; to accept my brotherhood is to hold me accountable. 

Brotherhood is to stand back to back, and kill them all; and it's to be the uncle to the family of a brother that has gone on. It is to stand in the gap.  

It is the oath of a knight to guard him and his family when he is wounded until he can stand. To slap him when he is being an idiot and love him when he is down. It's an oath that can not be broken; in truth it cannot be understood to those that are not. It's dysfunctional and aggravating; it can be stretched, pulled tight, and tied in a knot, falsified and screwed up, but a true brotherhood, like a strand of three chords cannot be broken. 

Brothers can sit in silence for hours and just know being there is everything though no word is said.

The worst pit of hell is to see a brotherhood die.

Brotherhood is one phone call and knowing your family is safe even though your states, countries away. It's knowing your brother has given his only weapon to your wife and knowing he sleeps on your threshold until you are home.  It's tossing your last mag and pulling your bayonet because for you his back is more than your own, and if only one goes home it will be him.

We cover each other's shortcomings; our six, our 9 and 3. The phrase, "I got your six" is a blood oath, though no cut is drawn. 

It's drilling that discipline till it hurts and then drilling more.

It's having the same perspective regardless of past.

Brotherhood is to be of the same body.

It is clarity of vision and action; mission and purpose.

In so many ways it can't be described, it is just known informally until it is made formal.

Brotherhood by definition is exclusive but not discriminatory.

 So many use the term brother and yet so few understand its width and depth.

My line is drawn at my brothers back and his at mine and there we stand.

 After thinking  this over for a few days I have come to my self-definition of this thing called "brotherhood" ....

Brotherhood - it started for me about day p-2 in boot camp... When I wasn't so good at spit shining my boots, my battle buddy "bunk mate" helped me to square myself away for my first personal inspection the next day...

While still in boot camp on the drill team, I stayed after to help my squad member learn the drill routine that we had to perform for pass and review only two days later and missed chow that night and evening muster... Hence "PT TILL I SWEAT RECRUIT"...

Fast forward, when I got to my first duty station and my father had a terrible accident at work, and I had my fireteam leader cover my duty status for a week so I could get home...

While in a war zone, (a stupid analogy), I was out of Copenhagen snuff, my teammate hands me his last can from home... war zone... There are way too many small examples to even begin to define... Simply put, the guy next to me will not stay in this f'ing country!!!

In the middle of engaging, my team brother yells out, "out of ammo," and I throw my last full clip to him...

Looking back, those so simple things in life taught me sooo much about about what it meant to be a brother!

Understanding my thoughts are scattered, I will fast forward to current events...

Recently, family things have arisen, as a member of a club, NO ONE from said club CONTACTED me to offer help.... Another individual from another organization made a point to inquire to ensure all was secure! THAT IS BROTHERHOOD! It does not matter your affiliation, when a vet looks at vet in the eye and says, "I got you," it means more than any civilian will ever comprehend! You know that brother has got your back through any and ALL means necessary!

Another instance, another true vet brother called to check on me and my family when things were not so well and great...

The most simple thing in life is knowing that you have those few guys you can count on, no matter the time of day, no matter the circumstance, no matter what it takes to cover down for "That Brother"!!

So many say BROTHER, yet so FEW understand the true meaning!

Brotherhood wish

Oh, that the church could understand the concept of brotherhood to that same extent that it is understood by the veteran and the biker. 

The Veteran understands brotherhood because of the blood shed and spilt standing the line, armor on as Paul warned the Ephesians to do. To stand at the ready before the onslaught without fear of the battle, on the way. To stand during the fight as the Devil's arrows fly, without wavering, and to finally stand guard after the battle is won--standing guard over the wounded and weary, standing in the gap as they are nursed back to health ready for the next command. A veteran shares with his fellow brothers the scars of war those that are seen and those that cannot. the victories of battle and the loss of those that have fell.

If the Church could just know brotherhood as the biker does: The brotherhood of the endless mile, of the road less traveled, the narrow road. The road over the mountain top experiences of worship and through the valley of Vision, of loneliness, and despair; but always side by side through times good and bad, brothers carrying each other on as the One Road Captain guides. brothers that share the scars of the road and the love of a life many don't understand or comprehend.

Only when the Church remembers this true understanding of brotherhood will it return to the strength of Character and influence that it once was and should be.

Only when the Church understands brotherhood will the country be turned around and be back on track.

Monster

“Sometimes the world no longer needs a hero. They need a monster” ( Dracula Untold). Or maybe that is a pc, liberal, globalist lie. They, the liberals, who from this point on will be referred to as the zombies, hate the military. They are the ones who want the universal soldier, you remember the Van Damme movie. The soldier that can kick every ass then be put in cold storage till needed. They preach utopia, but want automatons to enforce it. Utopia, true utopia, doesn't need enforcing. Thats why it cannot exist in this world. They want their military to enforce their insane world view and then be able to call them monsters because they are automatons without feeling or emotion, and easily blamed because they are contained until needed again. They can run their propaganda machine and still run the universal soldier as needed. This is not what the founding fathers saw as our future. Any attempt at utopia ends up a dystopia. We are on the verge of this now. More laws have been broken by this POTUS, and I hesitate to even capitalize the acronym at this point, at risk of showing respect for a tyrant and traitor. I respect the office but have no respect for the man. At best he is a Muslim sympathizer globalist who thinks he will be granted power when the caliphate is complete. At worse he is a Muslim who is waging a political, and cultural jihad. America needs to wake up but before Lady Liberty can wake up, the American church must wake up first. It was the Church and the Holy Spirit that sparked the Revolution, and it is the Holy Spirit that will awaken the Bride of Christ and spark the second one. My opinion.

Southern Heritage

I was not born in the South nor was I "raised" in it. I do, however, have a Southern heritage. My family came to Virginia when it was still a colony. We helped found it; we helped defend it; and we rebelled against British tyranny and helped Virginia and the rest of the colonies gain their independence. I was raised in Iowa with good conservative midwest values. Through my years I have been around the world and have ended up back in Virginia. I consider myself in many ways a rebel son come home. Since I have returned to the south of my family heritage, I have learned the nuances of southern philosophy, southern theology, and southern culture. I love grits (always have) but I'm still not a fan of sweet tea, though it's ok in small doses. Almost everything about the South and its culture and heritage I love. I do not like nor do I condone chattel slavery, never have, never will. 

The recent events in Charleston were tragic, gravely tragic. The facts as I understand them are a white kid messed up on suboxone who liked to burn the American flag and wear patches associated with apartheid South Africa, happened to have a picture on his Facebook account waving the Northern Virginia Army's Battle Flag. As usual the attention-craving liberal media grabbed onto this and started the perfect storm. Now several States have succumbed to the PC whore goddess and have taken down that battle flag from over their capitals. Amazon has banned the sale of that battle flag, sacrificing the profits they could make on its sale on the altar of political correctness. It's America; for the most part we are still free, though not as free as we were when I was growing up. 

Men that I respect, Franklin Graham for one, have called for us to put this flag in the closet for the sake of unity and peace. Men I love and respect and consider mentors, who have been my professors, have posted similar articles saying the same thing. I respect their views, and continue to respect and love them as theologians and mentors. I wonder however, what the cost is and should be for unity and peace? The church in America specifically has sacrificed much for the sake of unity, to the point in many cases of it becoming a graven image with a bloody altar.  We, meaning the church have sacrificed our God-given obligation and privilege to serve the poor and those in need to the government for the sake of "unity". We have given our right to free speech as pastors to speak against the evils of political opponents of the Gospel during elections. True Christianity is NOT bipartisan. True Christianity stands for Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness within the confines of a biblical morality as our forefathers understood it. True Christianity is above politics, but it should also drive the politics of the Church. 

Should the flag be set aside? I don't know, but I do know setting aside any flag will not end a violence that is a heart problem. I also know that setting aside any flag will put us one more step closer to a loss of our First Amendment rights. Any step closer to our loss of the First Amendment rights puts us one step closer to us losing our right to wave the Christian flag, the Gadsden flag, the American flag. After the flags, what will they come for next: our Bibles? Our right to worship? All for the sake of Unity and Peace?  I myself have never flown the battle flag but feel an overwhelming desire to have it tattooed on my arm, not because I am a racist, not because it's heritage, but because it is quickly becoming a the symbol it was originally meant to be once again: a symbol of standing against tyranny. Whether the details were right or not, i.e., Slavery is a concern, but does that detail (as tragic as it was) overshadow the big picture of the loss of states' rights that was the result of the South's loss in that war? I don't know if the flag should be set aside or not, but I do not think it should be set aside over a contrived media frenzy propagated by the media meat puppets of the present administration which have used the same flag when it suited them and now want to put it away when it is no longer convenient for them. As the church we are not called by God to be in unity or at peace with the world. We are called to stand against it, because a world without God is a world at war with Him. I don't wave the battle flag, I don't even own a battle flag, but I have already lost to many of my rights and I am not willing to give up any more of them. 

My thoughts and prayers go out to the victims in Charleston. It was a tragedy that should have never happened but it's a heart problem (there is a lot of evidence that says it is also a psychotropic prescription problem) not a flag problem, not a gun problem, not a white or a black problem. A very big and very tragic heart problem.

Brotherhood

Been listening to a lot of ffdp lately. Doesn't really fit my designated social status as pastor, but there is something to be said about biker culture and church. There is a lot that can be learned. In my life, in my culture bother is a title earned. In the church, everyone uses the title as if it's generic. But, Brother is earned, it's not store bought, it's not the same as Mr. Mrs. Or even Sir. It is select, so understand we may be kin, in Christ, but you have to earn the title of Brother in my eyes. Just my two cents. There will be more to come on brotherhood.

Sheepdog vs the wolf in each of us

The reason a sheepdog is good at what he does is because the wild animal of his ancestry is not completely bred out of him. He remembers the wolf and knows how he acts and thinks. What separates him from the wolf is that he has sworn an oath to protect and defend the sheep and if possible wake them up by sounding the alarm before he draws the line and says none shall pass.

Postmodern crack

For my apologetics class, I have to write a paper critiquing the postmodern worldview. Because of this I have to read books that are proponents of postmodernism. These authors and philosophers are basically the OG's of the SJW's. I am basically reading the tomes that gender studies professors preach from and the diversity directors in the graveyards of higher learning that we call liberal arts colleges use to proselytize from. At best, these authors can be described as those who have become intoxicated by the exuberance of their own verbosity. Which, if postmodern theorists are described in this way, one could say that they are the dealers of philosophical crack or meth. This then explains immensely the lack of logic and reason in the sjw, blm, and occupy movements. In simple terms, they are philosophical crack heads, and metaphysical tweekers.

Blessed

I am feeling very blessed to be a part of the UP Foundation family. I have taken a job very similar to the one I was doing at my last job, but the work environment is so much better than where I was. I am managing an out patient substance abuse and recovery ministry that is not secular, but faith based and clinical. I am going to help take the ministry to the next level, and become the go to place for help with substance abuse issues. Whether it is one person, or a family in crisis the UP foundation in the next year or so will be the place to go in Virginia and the surrounding states. God has blessed me in so many ways with this job and the ministry family of James Stewart, Lewis Johnston, my wife and the rest of the staff at UP Foundation. God has been and will be doing some amazing things with this group; so stay tuned!

www.upwithrecovery.org

Breathing

I have spent two and a half years in a job that involved helping men who had been slaves to addiction to the point of homelessness. The average client was in their late forties to early sixties, and had spent an average of five to ten years in  homelessness. I was the program manager, the case manager, and the counselor; their life coach and life skills teacher, full time security, building maintenance, and building supervisor, as well as the part time chauffeur, and part time cook. I have met some amazing men who have overcome phenomenal things to become productive citizens again. I have also met some amazing manipulators—as clients, as employees and as bosses. I am not calling anyone out by this post, I am merely using the opportunity to write things down and take advantage of the first real opportunity I have had at self care for two and a half years. It is the first opportunity I have had since taking this job. I guess in a way I am using this as a confessional.  This is because the biggest lesson I have learned is that my lack of self care has caused me to fail in meeting the needs of my clients, my family and my self in so many ways. In the middle of it, I knew I was failing them, but at the same time, just like the Dutch boy with his thumb in the dyke, I couldn't stop. 

For the first time in two and a half years I can breathe. I am slowly not having a PTSD reaction to a text, or phone call. I can even leave the house without my phone. The current sermon series by our pastor talks about the spiritual depression that Giants of the Bible went through—men like Hezekiah, Elisha, Jonah and David. All were men who, in their lives, forgot how to or had trouble breathing at one point or another.

Scripture talks about man receiving the breath of life. It was the start of Adam’s existence. There is much in Scripture that shows that every breath after Adam’s initial breath is also a gift from God. The biggest part of self care is remembering to breathe. We have to breathe God in as we breathe out our troubles to Him, as well as our praise. It has been a long time since I have been able to truly breathe out praise, or even breathe out the confession of my troubles and care to Him. I am thankful that I am learning to breathe again. The tyranny of the urgent will kill. It will kill your relationship with your God, with your family, with your friends, and with yourself. 

The tyranny of the urgent puts you always on edge. Nothing is ever done, nothing can ever be checked off. It clutters your life with so much junk that when you finally get a chance to breathe, it’s like a hoarder waking up for the first time to just how much of a junkyard they live in. There is a song by the Zach Brown Band about living in a junkyard. The song can mean so many different things as songs do. It could be talking about addiction, about the tyranny of the urgent, or about abuse. I don't know what their intent was when they wrote the song, but every time I hear it I think about losing my breath or my ability to breathe. Propaganda, a spoken word and hip hop artist, talks about it in his piece on being present. He talks about a conversation with his father who was a Vietnam vet and civil rights activist. The part of the lyrics that are relevant are as follows:

He proceeded to tell me why He failed as my mother’s husband

He said it was the same reason half of his platoon died in Vietnam

And the same reason you are deathly afraid of your daughter becoming a teenager

Son, you can't hear past the explosions, either the ones that already happened or the ones

You anticipate

See the former paralyzes

Living life in the rear view mirror driving full speed across traffic into the center divider

So shell shocked you too stupid to duck when bullets are flying

Or the latter

Your life a game of capture the flag

So focused on the finish line, you stepped right on a land mine

You’re so ready to attack the day

Frustrated because you can't find your keys

Focused on the meetings you're gonna miss

And the traffic you’re gonna sit in to realize that you’ve been holding your keys the whole time

Slow down

You have been hypnotized by the possibility

Son, I couldn't hear past the bombs

The first one didn't kill me and the second one ain't even happened

Yet it ended our family

He goes on to talk about our love story with time. He says:

He told me a love story

Of a woman born before him

He said I knew her before and at the moment of conception

There was an eternal connection

And although I didn't know it then, I'd fight for her affection

It's this war we’ve been waging since day one of creation

And only when you lose her do you learn to appreciate her, like even

When I’m with her, I’m itching to get rid of her

And she only gives you one shot, blow it and she's gone

And I took advantage of her

Thats why I’m telling you this

Son, you can't rush her or slow her down, you better keep here on her side

She will slip through your fingers

Like sand her name is Time

And she told me a secret

She said multitasking is a myth you ain't doin’ anything good just everything awful

And she begged me to stop stretching her thin and stuffing her full, and stop being so concerned

With the old her and future her, but love her now

Her presence is God’s present, and you should be that, present

This is where PTSD comes from: so intent on reaching the goal that we lose everything, or so overwhelmed by the latest crisis that we just stop and quit. When we forget how to breathe we become the abuser in an abusive relationship with time. We lose track of everything; our relationships with our spouse, our kids, our friends. Life is about relationships, we were created for community, for each other. Psychology is built on the fact that we can’t get our relationships right; mostly because we abuse time, or we allow time to abuse us.

I will not allow the abuse to continue; I will change, and I will breathe.

 Thanks to my wife, my friends, my church family, and most importantly to my Heavenly Father.