My Travels
Whatever kind of man of God I am, I am most certainly a modern one. God has taken me on a journey of learning and exploration which has been beautiful and thrilling, and also frustrating. At times infuriating.Beautiful in that God has gifted me with a wealth of wisdom and knowledge. My spirit has grown lithe and agile as God has blessed me with revelation beyond my wildest dreams.
Infuriating, in that I remain dirt poor, stuck in a single room in what must be among the most spiritually desolate places on earth. My journey has been lonely, and devoid of the travel which is such a fundamental longing of most human beings, and such a vital aspect of all the age-old quests.
My journey has been on the information superhighway (do people still say that?) and through the infinite time and space of God's word.
I do not regret it. In the spiritual realm I am rich indeed. But it has been hard to keep bitterness and envy at bay as I watch virtually everyone I know, believer and non-believer alike, enjoy romance, stability, prosperity and all the trappings of the physical realm.
Especially when I live with bipolar disorder.
As I am sure you have gathered, I am not shy about sharing my love of my Saviour, Jesus Christ. He has given me that gift. But when my mental illness gets the best of me, that gift becomes the curse of curses. I openly disgrace my Saviour on facebook and make a deranged spectacle of myself for my trouble. This happened again this week.
That is another aspect of my travels: a voyage through the hells and nightmares of rage and hatred and despair.
Would these blurbs be possible without my hardships? I rather think not. And I know I am richer and better-traveled than many.
But how I hate the pain of bipolar. How I despise the knowledge, right now in this moment, knowing that the devil, not God, has worked through me this week, as he has far too many times before. I do not deny that this blurb is a cry for mercy, a desperate moan to the God I have so viciously spat upon even today.
Whatever his plan may still be for me, I thank him for his blood on the cross. I thank him for compelling me to write this blurb, that (who knows?) someone I have not met might someday read it. Someone brought low by their own failures who needs to understand that Christ's death and resurrection is mightier still.
I pray for this lost and broken world.
