First of all, this will primarily, be a 'Religion' topic. And, as hard to believe as it sounds, this wouldn't fit anywhere else. So please, bear with me.
This topic spawned from my thoughts about the thread with the painting in it, but it was a wierd train of thought. Don't bother asking me how it happened. I just wanted to share my views on Christianity... At least now that I've rethought most of them, thanks to you guys.
This should probably be in another forum, but as it's Christianity related, and is slightly apologetical, I thought I'd post it here first.
Basically, what I wanted to do was share a little bit about my life, and explain it in a specific way. I don't want to like, play the emo 'you don't know me' card, but I've been through quite a bit... and the outcome of it all just, to me, points to God's existance. I don't think this should be as much of a debate, as a 'post where you stand and leave it at that' subject. Even though there'll probably be some debating, because I'm an imperfect human being and will want to defend from any disagreements.
When reading this, remember a few things:
1. I'm certainly not looking for pity.
2. I'm not looking for a Drumpf card.
3. I just want you to understand my belief, and more importantly, the reason behind them.
4. I'm keeping it in spoiler tags so that people who revisit the topic don't have to scroll a really long way.
Spoiler : click to show/hide
I'm here again
A thousand miles away from You
A broken mess, just scattered pieces of who I am
I tried so hard
Thought I could do this on my own
I've lost so much along the way
Then I'll see Your face
I know I'm finally Yours
I find everything I thought I lost before
You call my name and I come to You in pieces
So You can make me whole
This morning, I lost internet access on my computer. So I went to my mom's computer to check my facebook and such, and just do my normal hanging out online stuff I do all the time. This computer used to be the family computer, so I used to have all of my music and files and such on here. I was curious and bored, so I decided to look around and see if there was any of it left.
Well, there wasn't, but I did find a mysterious .txt file called "My Son." naturally, I was curious, and opened it, and read it.
And what I read... brought tears to my eyes. Some of this information was never revealed to me. I was too young to remember. In this text file, my mom used the word 'routine' a lot. When something happened that was considered 'routine...' it hardly ever was. I was too different. Things were never routine around me.
A surgery I had when I was days old began with "routine" and ended with "there was nothing more that could be done for him, take him home and let him live out his days."
First they told my mother I wouldn't live to the age of 3. Then, not even to Kindergarten. Then to 9. Then to 12. Then 16. In that time alone, I've had 26 operations. Spawning from 'routine.'
Then they said I'd need a kidney transplant. And I would be on dialysis in early 2006. And they admitted that was optimistic. The wait for a kidney on the transplant list takes, routinely, 2 years.....and what happens next, my mom words better than I ever could.
"Jake was on the transplant list for 3 weeks when they called and told us they had a match. A little 5 year old girl had died in an accident. The call came in at 6:45 p.m.; Jake was at the High School playing in the band at a basketball game. My husband went to get him while I packed, and off we went. “Routine”. We arrived at KU medical center in Kansas City, just before 11:00 p.m., they were waiting for us, his room was ready. The kidney had not arrived yet, but the surgery was scheduled for 6:00 the next morning. Jake was in for four hours when Dr. Scheinman came out and told us the news, Jakes blood vessels had for some reason collapsed and they could not find one big enough to support the new kidney. “Routine”. Someone else’s life would be saved on this day. Jake took the news better than I did. The next day he was ready to get out of bed and start healing, he wanted to leave the hospital as soon as possible. 13 days later he was back in school, without a new kidney."
Then....
"My baby turned 18 on Sunday, another stair the doctors said he would not climb. He had an appointment with Dr. Scheinman last week. He is holding his own for now. Dr. Scheinman said if you had asked him two months ago, he would have told you he would be on dialysis by now. Not getting any better, but not getting any worse either. "
And then, I met my father. I'd never known him. He left my mother while she was pregnant with me. We expected the meeting to be awkward. It wasn't at all. It was great. Something I never thought would or could happen.
December 2006.
"Another Christmas has come and gone. I love taking pictures of Jake when he looks so happy. Chris, my husband, has tested to see if he is a match for transplant, he is. However, he has high blood pressure and may be too high a risk. But, maybe as our last resort. Jake is still holding his own. Senior pictures were taken before Christmas break, wow, a senior, fooled those doctors, AGAIN. But graduation is still so far away"
Again. Another obstacle. Gone. Again.
And from there... my mom hasn't written anymore... so let me fill you in. I didn't go on dialysis in early 2006. I had the procedure for the hemocath done in the first week of August 2007. After I had graduated. That was when I went back on the transplant list.
September 13th 2007. I got the call. This one worked. It happened. The journey... is finished. It is done. Conquered.
And after I finished reading this, and reflecting on it... I got to thinking.... what's in store for me in the future? It has to be something grand. It has to be something God-ordained.
3 years old. Conquered.
Kindergarten? Conquered.
9. Conquered. 12. Conquered.
26 surgeries? Conquered.
2 years wait? Conquered. Twice.
High School? Conquered.
Meeting my father. Conquered.
My childhood... conquered.
Disability. Conquered.
Weakness. Conquered.
And I didn't do a single flipping thing. What power do I have to conquer such monumental giants? Who am I to have that power? No... I'm just routine. Just a guy.
My God, however, is not routine. Anything but. My God must have conquered those things. And not only that. They must've been like childs play for Him. You know why? Because of what I know that my God has conquered.
And He will conquer it in me as well.
DEATH. CONQUERED.
This is my conviction. The reason for my faith.
Every breath I take literally is a testimony to the existance and power of God.
Well, thank you for reading all of that, if you did. It means a lot.
Now um.... discuss.
EDIT - didn't like the way the phrase 'christian topic' came out. Sounded elitist. So I changed it.
Edited by Reflectionist, 17 December 2007 - 06:51 AM.