The following is the type of post that I am always afraid that I will write and quickly regret. In fact, I doubt that it will stay published too long as I expect to have blogger’s remorse within 24 hours of writing it.

I started crying about 3am last night and have not been able to stop. I have been avoiding everyone because every time I begin to talk, nothing happens but crying.

The immediate question that you will have is Why? I don’t necessarily have an answer. I remember two times in the last twenty years that I have cried. Once when I was in the backyard with my mother and I just started crying. When she inquired as to why I was crying, I could not tell her. I did not know. The second time was after my sister died and I put together the picture show for the funeral. Set to the background of “I Can Only Imagine” and Sarah Mclaughlin’s “Angel,” me and my family previewed the show in the living room. Everyone, including my dad, whom I had only seen cry once before, began crying. I could not help but cry with them.

I have not cried over my mother’s condition yet. Maybe this has something to do with my present state. Since the aneurysm and stroke, for the last two years (or has it been three?) we have waited for things to turn, for good of for ill. I suppose it has been a time of morning delayed turned morning denied. We are not really sure what to morn for yet. My mother is still here, but not really. Did we lose her or not?

My father’s depression remains. It brands him with denial, navigates him to the bar, and has seemingly made 30 years worth of prayers fall into the same ditch as the rest of this . . .  this . . . unwanted  . . . stuff!

For five years, I have had dreams where I cry without ceasing. I don’t know what they are about and the reason for my crying is never stable. All I know is that I cry and I can’t stop. When I wake up, I want to go back to sleep because I feel as if there were still tears that needed my company.

Maybe it was yesterday. Friday’s are my day with my mom. I go early in the morning and stay with her all day. It is very hard as I see what she has become. She is sweet and tender, but not the same. While she can’t walk, speak (other than say “you consider” and a few other phrases), or enjoy anything other than watching the same movie over and over, she is always glad to give you a hug. I was taking her home from Old School Bagel after lunch (we go there every Friday at 1pm), and she saw that we were pulling in her neighborhood and began to panic. The panic involves crying and screaming because she does not want to go home and sit in her chair that she never moves from. Who can blame her? She sits there all day. The whole place smells like urine. Every-one’s back is too bad to move her often as she has gained about sixty or seventy pounds. Lindsey (my sister) quite watching her all-together and is now seeing a doctor about her neck and back. She cried yesterday and I did not have the heart to take her home. So we just drove around for another couple of hours.

As a side note, considering my theology of spiritual gifts, I will become a Charismatic if someone would come heal my mother. I promise.

Maybe it is the economy. Maybe it is a fear of not being able to pay bills. Maybe it is a combination (and here is where I should not be writing what I am writing) of the stress of always having to raise funds for Reclaiming the Mind Ministries, being behind on paychecks, and, at the same time, starting a new major project. Yesterday I got a notice that our car payment had been rejected by the bank. That is the first time that I have not been able to pay a bill that I can remember. That hurts…it hurts a lot. Supporter, protector, provider. That is what I am. When Kristie asks “What is wrong” I tell her not to worry about it, but I will take care of everything because that is what I do . . . take care of things. But how? The phone rings twice today from Ford Credit. I did not answer.

I have committed everything that I am and have to this ministry. I have not even thought about what I would do if I did not do this. What can I do? I am not qualified for anything else. I don’t have a church around that I would feel comfortable working for. I would feel like I am getting a ministry job simply to pay the bills. Not for me. Getting a job in ministry—a pastoral position—just to pay bills. No! Yeah right, I would probably buckle and compromise what I think is my integrity if push came to shove. What else would I do? I got a newspaper the other day and started looking at jobs. I am decent at a lot of things, but not qualified for anything in the secular world. I found nothing that I could do.

It is not that Reclaiming the Mind is not paying the bills (for the most part), it is that I never know whether or not the next paycheck is coming or if I will have to send out another “alarm message.” I hate “alarm messages.” (Is there a stronger word than “hate”?

June: “Please help! Our ministry is in dire need. We are $5,000 behind this month. Please, if you believe in this ministry, send and immediate donation . . .”

July: “Please help! Our ministry is in dire need. We are $10,000 behind this month. Please, if you believe in this ministry, send and immediate donation . . .”

August: “Please help! Our ministry is in dire need. We are $8,000 behind this month. Please, if you believe in this ministry, send and immediate donation . . .”

Sept: “Please help! Our ministry is in dire need. We are $20,000 behind this month. Please, if you believe in this ministry, send and immediate donation . . .”

Yes, they always come, but at what expense? Is this really how a ministry is supposed to be run? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind asking for money at all, but I HATE alarm messages (did I say that). I vow here and now that I won’t send them out anymore. (Yeah right, you will probably get one next month.)

Maybe it is just me. I am not depressed . . . I don’t think. I am just crying. I can’t tell you the exact reason. Maybe there is no reason. Maybe it is all of these things.

I pray. I pray a lot. I am not angry with the Lord for anything. I have no disillusionment, bitterness, or denial in his presence. I try to stay one step behind him, even when he leads through battle fields of pain. I know he knows what he is doing and I trust him. But, at the same time, I am hurt, sad, and confused. Don’t mistake hurt with “giving up.” Don’t mistake sad with “angry.” And don’t mistake confused with “lost.”

I am just crying and I don’t really know why. All defense mechanisms that used to be there are gone. I stayed at the park for an hour or so today to avoid seeing my wife and children.

Don’t worry about me though. I am just crying…maybe it is a good thing. But I hope it stops soon.

Do you ever cry for “no reason”?

(Warning, this message is set to self-destruct)

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