In The End

The end result can tell us a lot. If I build a car, part by part, I can test to see if I built it correctly by starting it. If the engine runs healthy, I know by the end result that I build this car correctly.

Many times, we can see evidence to our actions by our end result. If I have a drinking problem, then seek help, I can tell whether or not my counseling is positive or not by my latter drinking habits.

A new product arrives on the line and promises to perform a certain way. I purchase this product in hopes that it will uphold to it's purpose. When I go to use the product, I will know whether or not it is of any quality by it's performance.

But sometimes, it's not so complicated and doesn't require a lot of scientific data. For example, if I play a sports game, i.e. basketball, I can tell by the final score whether or not I was victorious. Plain and simple.

Now, what if I was given data (that any person of reason would confirm) that said I won the basketball game. (say my final score was 117, and the opposing team was 108) It is evident that I won, right? What do I do if I'm told that I lost...especially when the facts show I won by 9 points?

Could I fight for the evidential truth? If so, what would I do? What would I need to do? How can one screw up a grilled-cheese sandwich? The score is plain and clear that I was the winner.

This is one reason why I can't stand living.

Let's say someone told me I lost that basketball game when I clearly won it.
I would find their accusations to be wrong. If I was passionate about how hard I worked at winning that game, I would also find it offensive.

But when I present the facts that show what the final score was, how is it that I'm being offensive?
And lets say the evidence I used was a recorded game book that showed a written score tally- Is it fair for those who claim I lost to say they do not approve of what evidence I used to defend my case?

Next thing I know, I'm apologizing for trying to defend myself when I originally was the victim. I'm apologizing because it was untactful to ask the refs for the game score record book. I'm apologizing for being the victim of slander.

Do you think this is silly? I sure as hell do.

Imagine fighting for truth because YOU are a victim....
...then imagine having to apologize because your pain is offensive.
If a rape victim screamed bloody murder while a guy raped her, should she apologize for screaming? Should she apologize for trying to scratch his face? Should she apologize for calling the cops?

I tried so hard and I got so far, but in the end....it doesn't even matter. As a victim, I had to apologize for being hurt.

This is my mom. There are many like her but this one is mine.

There are some things that no child should ever witness their mother do. On a yellow legal notepad, one could easily fill out a few thousand examples of disturbing acts that could traumatize a young infant, or break the heart of an older son/daughter.

I do love my mother and talk to her often. It is very difficult to have a real conversation with her because English is not her primary language. She shuts out the American culture. When she does embrace our customs, she accepts common pop-culture, new trendy concepts, or liberal education.

I love my mom because God tells me to do so. If it weren't for Him, I'd boot my mom from my life entirely. Yet by loving her, I constantly have to turn my cheek from her stupid and ignorant sins she freely chooses to act upon.

Since my mom was always away from home growing up, my dad raised me. It was just me and him....and all his beautiful female secretaries. They helped take me to school, cleaned our house, and make me meals from time to time. My dad was quite the Howard Stark in his company, but my mom had other professions.

At times, I have had to "borrow" other mother figures in my life. They have all done a superb job in raising me. One of the biggest founding mothers of my Christian zeal, I owe to Jane Pichette of Vista, CA. Like Jane, there have been many women and men of all ages that have been a parental figure in my life. I do love their guidance and of course, will not cease loving my own dad and mom. I remain in contact with my parents and speak to them often, mainly by phone.

Painful memories have echoed through the silence in between words of short phone calls but nothing prepared me for the shock I received tonight on my cell phone. As if the devil wasn't already working me from all angles under the sun, here comes another blow to my head. My mom sends me some devastating text messages to me....well, they were actually photos.



.... no.... much worse....





I don't know why I'm alive. I'm constantly reminded of how much I've failed or how wrong or how horrible I am. I don't understand why Christ would love me.

Our modern church is so dead it's hard to find real brothers and sisters in Christ that I can cry and pray with. I was at a Christian store recently and after my purchase/transaction, the cashier asked, "Is there anything I can pray about for you?"

I told her no... I didn't want her to have nightmares.