I don’t know what is worse: pain my beloved bride caused me by divorcing me or realizing the pain I inflicted upon her. One is from an external source (my ex-wife), which is massive, painful and to the core. Being rejected can be an assault upon the core of your person. That might be over-stating, but you won’t fault me for saying it, will you? That rejection hurts. But realizing or getting a glimpse of the pain I caused is another type of pain. It is one of regret, sorrow, bitterness and anger. I honestly don’t know which one hurts worse.

I suppose it’s a tie and I suppose I fluctuate back and forth between the two. The good news is that there is healing and forgiveness for both. I forgive my ex-wife for abandoning me and for walking away from and severing our marriage covenant. I am also forgiven by God for inflicting damage upon my wife of 20 years. In case you’re new to this blog, I wounded my former wife again and again and again and again with my workaholic ways. I made an idol out of a good thing (HM Magazine), which was my ministry, my business and my dream-come-true vision come-to-life. I’ve owned up to my sin and God has graciously forgiven me. My slate is wiped clean. I am free from that guilt.

That’s not to say condemnation won’t rear its ugly head and try to throw itself in my face from time to time, but the God I serve and the grace given to me is much bigger than my sin.

“The cross was enough. The cross was enough.” (from “Jesus Son of God”)

I can sing with the hymn, “Bless the Lord, Oh my soul – oh, my soul.” (from “10,000 Reasons”) And I can mean it, because God has been with me and has shown me kindness in my brokenness. I may falter and I may feel weak from time to time, but when I rise up from off my knees, I rise up a man. God’s power is available to me and though I’m not worthy of His mercy and grace, it has been given to me in abundance. He gives me a fresh dosage of hope, it seems, just when I need it.

I am grateful to Him.

I am also thankful for allowing me to sell HM Magazine to a worthy buyer. This David Stagg guy is a pretty amazing dude. He has been probably my top writer. I hold back my praise a little bit, but I can honestly say he’s been my most trusted writer for these past ten years. I haven’t counted, but I know he’s been assigned more cover stories and lead-off (prominent) album reviews than any other freelance writer in the last ten years. As you may have read, David interned at HM Magazine back in the summer of ‘3. I was impressed with his skills and work ethic then and he has only reinforced those impressions since.

The transition to David’s leadership has been really smooth. I am amazed and praise God for His handiwork. I didn’t know if it’d be hard to “give up my baby,” but it’s been kind of easy. Seeing it served by such capable hands makes it even easier to let go.

I’m planning on writing another book. I’ve got a couple of other projects in the works. You may recall that I was involved with the Michael Sweet biography that will hopefully come out later this year. I have also written a children’s book. It’s an early reader and – after failing to find an illustrator for it – I plan on illustrating it myself and doing a KickStarter campaign to fund hiring a professional illustrator for the book and printing a bunch of copies. If my dream were to come true for that book, it would be my best-seller and go to bookstores everywhere, schools and be read and enjoyed by children everywhere. The other book I plan on writing afresh is a book about my experience from the last year. I’ll reveal its title later.

Like my blogs, I will bear my soul and reveal myself in an honest and unflinching manner. I hope and pray that God would see fit to use my story and my testimony of His faithfulness to help others.

My soul is prospering and this can only be the work of God. I had a handful of friends ask me point-blank if I was considering doing harm to myself. I thank God and apply the soft-spoken adage – “there, but for the grace of God, go I” – because I can see how others could spin out of control amidst the kind of despair that rejection and heartbreak brings. This is a tragedy. I’ve long thought how sad it can be when someone’s vision becomes so short-sighted that they can’t seem to see into the future – past their pain. You never know what tomorrow might bring. You might never know what next year might bring.

Some dumb vocalist in some dumb punk band named Frost Patrol or Crust Until or Lust Central or some skimask-wearing-clan band wrote the lyric, “Don’t kill you, or succumb to fear / Don’t kill you, it might clear up next year / Don’t kill you, let me be so bold / Don’t kill you, God loves you – so I’m told…” There’s even a line about not kicking your dog, which is rhymed with “Let someone else see through the fog.” This is a suggestion to get help and find a loving, listening ear when you are in incredible I-can’t-handle-it pain. That other person can sometimes offer you some perspective that your blinding pain won’t let you see.

As awkward as it was to hear that question, I am grateful that I have friends that could care less about the feeling of awkwardness compared to the importance of finding out that I was okay (or not okay in an extreme way). That’s a sign of a good friend.

I haven’t blogged in a couple months, so I have wandered from topic to topic a bit here. Please accept my apology. I hope to get back to blogging about every day again soon. I’ve got a couple concert reviews I need to post here … and there’s plenty of things to observe and comment on in real life.

I might talk about my new job with the Texas Department of Agriculture. I might talk about some of the things I’m reading in the Word of God lately. And while I’m thinking about it, I’d like to sign off by revealing what a beautiful place I’m in. Though I’m walking through the valley of the shadow of death, I am experiencing a closeness to God that lifts my head up. When I hear certain worship songs, it seems like my insides burst open with joy. It’s almost like my rib cage wants to split open and my very heart wants to sing like it had a voice. I call that “entering in” to worship. It’s an act of my will to want to praise my Creator, but it’s also almost an involuntary thing like angels are wooing me to worship the King of Kings – or perhaps the Holy Spirit inside of me is responding to the truth of glorifying the Great I Am.

You’ve heard the Christmas story time and time again if you live in the West, and you will recall that the angels proclaimed that His Name is Emmanuel, which means “God with us.” He has proved His Name to be true to me. I feel like I cannot tell you or do an adequate job in explaining that, but it is a great joy to attempt it. I cannot flatter or speak forth compliments enough begin to pay the tribute He deserves. God is awesome.

While I’ve been on my knees, doubled over in pain, I’ve cried tears of joy and felt like I was on Cloud Nine with an anchor in my soul that has more depth and weight than any drug or feeling of accomplishment on earth.

I’m sorry, kids, but I did drugs back in high school. I’m not going to lie. I was a prodigal son when I was a teenager. I came home like a prodigal son when I was 20. I’ll tell that story (again) here sometime. For now I just want to express the beauty and joy that God has given me in the midst of my pain – more pain than I’ve ever experienced before.

My heart has been reshaped by this pain, but God is there. There’s something about this that is priceless. I would hope that God would use me to help others avoid pain, and I pray that He does, but what He might use me for is to help others endure the pain when (not if) they have pain in their own life.

And you know what’s awesome about this? There is no pain, no regret, no annoyance in helping others in pain. I’m sure I might run into an imbalance of boundaries some day – that’s just common sense. But my first response when encountering someone else’s pain these days? It’s not counting the cost of how inconvenient this might be. There’s a sense of gratitude that God would redeem my own suffering to help others. It’s an honor. And there’s also a connection. This hurting person is my brother or sister. I’ve been there. I know.

I don’t have any answers, but I know that I’ve been comforted knowing that Jesus suffered with me and for me and can know what I’ve experienced.

“I am overwhelmed with sorrow – even to the point of death.”

That’s what Jesus said in the Garden when He was trying to convince His disciples to stand and pray with Him. This was when He sweat drops of blood. This was when He was stressed out to the max. This was when He said a magic word of such love and depth that it should almost be carved in stone somewhere. Maybe we can carve that out together?! Anyone have any marble or stone and carving tools? The word is a compound word. The word did it all. The word determined our very destiny. The word?

NEVERTHELESS.

Jesus was praying that God would “let this cup pass” from Him. What that meant was, “Get me out of here. Let there be another way out of this problem. Let me not die at this time.” But the next phrase started with one word:

“…Nevertheless, not My will, but Thine be done.”

He said, “If I have to die, I will do it.” And He did it. He is so beautiful. He is such a brave man. He is such a hero. This is the type of person that I could live for. He is worth following. He is worth praising. He is worth loving.

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