The Start of A Novel?

As I was going through some old files the other day, I stumbled upon some what of a story that I was working on. Anyway, let me know what you all think!

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(One)

The dichotomy of Jack and Roy

            Jack was a young boy, wrapped in soft freckled skin and red hair that came below his eyebrows. As a child he had to do what he could to entertain himself, whether that would be making toy guns or seeing how far he could throw a rock, he had the knack for creating things. Jack lived in small town in Ohio with his uncle Roy.

            The two never spoke much; Jack was always in his room drawing several different things at once. While uncle Roy sat in a dark living room watching TV in his recliner chair.   Jack fell asleep most nights on the hard floor next to a pile of his own drawings. He wanted to become a famous artist and move out of that God forsaken small town.  He missed his mother tremendously, who had a very warm and caring demeanor.

            Jacks mother Diana tragically died of cancer when he was six, the greatest memory he had of her was an old King James Bible that she left him. Jack would sometimes wake up the next morning in the same clothes from the night before. His bare feet crinkled against the paper he slept beside.

He winced at the sudden sound his feet made when it met the paper, the thought of waking uncle Roy up was terrifying, and he was never abusive with his hands but harsh with tone. Jack loved going out into the living room where uncle Roy slept to read his beloved Bible.

            Jack sat Indian style next to his uncle’s chair; the light from the television was the only thing that allowed him to see the words on each page. His fingers softly skimmed over the pages, feeling their delicate texture. “God isn’t real son” Uncle Roy said ever so suddenly, “you make your own way, not some fucking God up in the sky”.  Jack looked puzzled as he looked up his uncle, wondering why he would say such an astonishing thing.  Jack decided to smile and go about his reading.  He loved reading proverbs and psalms because they resembled a father figure showing him how to be wise and to see beauty in the world around him.          

            After a few moments Jack looked back up at his up his Uncle who was slowly fading back into his sleep. “Uncle Roy”, jack called out. “What do you want kid? Uncle Roy replied in an agitated fashion. “I want to be an artist”.  Uncle Roy waited a few moments before responding with his eyes glued shut “No one cares that you want to be an artist kid.”

“But why?” Asked jack.

“Because no one gives a shit about your art”.

Jacks small frame riled up with anger, his small fists clinched beside his body, he stomped off back to his room. In tears he gathered up all of his drawings in one hand and walked back into the living room in an aggressive manner. He walked passed Uncle Roy who was now sound asleep. Jack walked into the kitchen and flipped open the trash can lid, shoving all his artwork down into the trashcan and kicking it over with all his might.

            Uncle Roy barged in after being woken up from the ruckus coming from the kitchen. “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted, seeing all the garbage scattered across the kitchen floor.  “I’m throwing this shit away” Jack exclaimed “No one’s gonna like it anyway.” 

 “You don’t talk to me that way!” Uncle Roy yelled as he picked up jacks small frame with his hands. “You don’t talk to me that way you hear!?” Uncle Roy shook  Jack repeatedly. Jack through all his tears managed to slip out of his uncles grasp by clawing him in the eyes. Uncle Roy dropped jack on the floor and stepped back with his hands over his eyes. Jack fearing what would happen next pulled himself up off the ground and ran passed his uncle and into his room locking the door behind him. He through his small frame on his bed and proceeded to cry with his face buried inside of his arms. Meanwhile Uncle Roy managed to make his way back his couch, sitting down with his hands over his face attempting to stop the water streaming from his face. “Fuck sake” he said quietly “What have I done?” He noticed that Jack had left his Bible open next to him. “Fuck, what the fuck have I done God? How the fuck could you forgive someone like me?”

            Suddenly, with his hands over his head he felt a moment of clarity come over him. He stood up, took and deep breath and wiped his eyes. He made his way back to Jack’s room, “Jack?” “Jack?” he exclaimed again getting closer to his room. “Go away!”  “Jack open the door” Uncle Roy said softly as he got closer. “Jack, I’m sorry…. I haven’t been a great uncle to you, let alone a good person”. Hearing all the words his uncle was saying from outside his door, Jack slowly removed himself from his bed and opened the door. 

            Uncle Roy knelt down in front of the door, hiding the pain of his old age. He put his hands softly on the same spots he did out of anger in the kitchen. He looked tenderly in Jack’s eyes and softly said again “I’m sorry…”  Jack sniffled through his tears unable to say anything. 

“Jack, if you want to be an artist, I am no one to stop you. I am sure that you are a talented artist”. “But you haven’t even seen any of them” Jack said in frustration, “I know, and I’m gonna go dig them out of the trash can myself right now”. Uncle Roy took Jack by the hand for the first time, it was an odd experience for the both of them, uncle Roy could not remember the last time he held anyone’s hand, let alone so intentionally, and Jack was happy that someone was showing that they cared. 

  Uncle Roy lead Jack to the kitchen, holding Jacks hand tightly the entire way. When they approached the trash can uncle Roy lifted the lid slowly, seeing all of Jacks drawings piled on top of each other. He scooped them up within a four finger grasp and slid them out from within his grasping hand examining the closely with his eyes. He wasn’t much for an artistic critique, but when he saw Jacks art work he began to weep. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried, his heart had become so cold and hard.    

“Awe Jack, they’re great” he said wiping his eyes. Jack’s drawings were not what most would consider masterpieces, but Uncle Roy saw potential and creativity within Jack’s scribblings. After Uncle Roy finished looking at each of Jack’s drawings with great examination, he set them down by his left knee and looked at Jack with a love he had never felt before. 

“Jack” Uncle Roy said with a long pause after..

“Yes, Uncle Roy?”

“Jack, I know that life hasn’t always worked out the way you wanted it, and it never does. But I want you to know that you can still have a bright future ahead of you. I also want you to know, that I haven’t been the greatest man Jack, I’ve made a mess of my life and I hope that you can forgive me for that”.

       Jack stood there motionless unsure of what to say, he began to replay all the things that his uncle had just said to him. His lips began to quiver as tears rolled down his face. Uncle Jack put his arms back on the same spots he aggressively grabbed earlier, looking into Jack’s eyes. Jack now, almost convulsing, said something he knew to say “Uncle Jack God loves you” as he fell into his uncle’s arms.

Uncle Roy held him tight in his arms until the sun began to go down. He seemed to ignore the pain that soared into his knees. After a while Jack had  fallen asleep on his shoulder. Uncle Roy managed to get up off the floor with groaning from the stiffness in his knees, carrying Jack back to his room.  He laid him down slowly  and Jacks head rested softly on his pillow. He tucked Jack in softly and looked at him for a few moments before leaving his room. After leaving his room, Uncle Roy made his way back to the living room, where he would sit in his comfy chair. After sitting down, he put his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes with his hands, he could not remember the last time he felt so drained. 

            He  noticed Jacks Bible as he turned his eyes down by his right foot. As he reached down to pick it up, some pages had flopped over, he didn’t care or know exactly what he was reading. His eyes only skimmed the pages. When his eyes made their way toward the bottom of a page, he noticed a few words that would forever change his life.

“Today I have become your Father”. 

Hope in the face of the “Impossible” Dream

Have you ever had a dream inside you, that you wanted to come true so bad? Yet no how much you pray, try to improve yourself so that the dream can happen, it actually doesn’t.. This is exactly what I have been grappling a lot with lately with God.

One of the biggest dreams of my life, is to one day meet an awesome woman and be a husband and father. And yet at 36 (nearly 37) it doesn’t look like the father part is going to happen, at least in the organic sense of the word.

Sure in this world, I could meet someone, have a small ceremony and consider adopting. However, the desire wouldn’t simply go away. And with each year that passes in my life. The bigger the desire gets. At this stage in my life though, the reality of having children the organic way seems highly unlikely.

This probably is not helping my cause much, however I’ve read a lot about the reality that fertility rates for men these days are horrible. Even in men within my age bracket. That’s pretty terrifying if I may say so myself. Which has caused me to be hyper aware of everything I’m doing, should the reality even come close to happening.

Honestly, there’s a part of me that wishes that could maybe go back and be a few years younger. Maybe make a few better choices in life and maybe have a better shot at the dream. It grieves me to see the amount of people in society, that have chosen not to bring kids into the world. I understand why, largely because our world is a different place and it’s rougher to live in.

However, in my personal opinion, I believe that being a husband and father would such an amazing blessing. Easy? Hell no, and this is the other part that is equally perplexing for me. Is that there are people in my life telling me to do the opposite of what my heart longs.

To not get married

To not have kids

and to simply accept that the kind of woman that I’d like to find. Isn’t real.

You know what I say to all of that? Those are the experiences of other people- and not my own. Ok, yes I understand that the reality that I’m hoping for is not an easy one. It never is, but here’s the deal also. When you have have have your own shit under control, it doesn’t have to be that bad. I’m speaking more in the emotional/mental and spiritual sense.

All too often I see people go into a relationship or marriage and drag their pain and experiences right into it. Unchecked. And that’s the problem, and some people just don’t realize how broken they actual are until years into the journey. If ever..

In life we can unknowingly dump our experiences and conceived notions on people, without thinking about it. Thinking that our perspective is the next best thing to the gospel of Christ. It’s not.

I also realize that as a Christian, there lies inside me the greatest hope of all the world. Not simply in only the eternity sense. Though that is highly important and utterly amazing. But also that God is a God of miracle’s. Do those always happen? Nope they don’t, but what would it say about having faith, if my faith wasn’t actually in the one person that conquered the world for me?

God told Abraham that he would have a son, and while his wife chuckled at the idea.. He didn’t shrink in faith. Zechariah and his wife had son… Even when they thought they would never have one. He and his wife even dated. But it happened for them.

See the theme here? Hope- hope against all odds. Once again, does this then mean that my wildest dreams will come true? No, but as long as air is still flowing through my body. My hope will be in God. For my hope and confidence is not even in myself but in him.

Another blogger that I frequent, who just so happens to be an orthodox Christian. He says that “only God can bring you a wife.” It might seem silly to many, even though I’m a big advocate for self improvement and being the best version of ourselves possible. It’s all up to the king. And while it is all up to the king, I will by his grace walk with him through out the peaks an valleys.

I hope give up on hope. I won’t give up on the dream.

Woman jump over canyon

How To Be A High Value Person: With a Disability

Lately I’ve been thinking about what it means, to be a person of “high value”, as it also relates to be a person with a disability. The term “high value” truly comes down to how you see and treat yourself. In truth, being assertive is something that has been a challenge for me my whole life. Sometimes the fear of speaking up about my belief on a given topic, causes me to fear the consequences. Either by offending someone or being viewed a certain way. Even in living with cerebral palsy, asking for things is tough because one does not want to feel like a burden. Maybe for you, it’s that and also how you see yourself. Perhaps you don’t take care of yourself as much, because on the inside you do not feel as though you are worth someone caring about. Whatever that may be, for any of us, here is a short list of things to become a person of a higher value.

One: you already are a person of high value because God has placed his image upon you. Which is the greatest blessing to ever be bestowed on human life.
Two: Take care of yourself, physically speaking: exercise in the way that you can, eat good foods that serve your body and not destroy it. And to a certain extent, present yourself with a good image.
Three: know your personal boundaries and do not allow to be crossed- by anyone.
Four: Guard your mind and heart, learn not to be over ran and dominated by every single though or emotion.
Five: Master your temptations, whatever they may be.