Ecclesiastes 7:3
“Sorrow is better than laughter, for sadness has a refining influence on us.”
This entry was written last Father’s Day (2024), one month after being removed from my family’s home.
“6/16/2024 7:35 p.m.
I think I’m disappearing. Everyone else is too. I’m transcending. Evaporating. It’s more scary than ever. People keep disappearing. Books are about me. God speaks to me and everyone is gone. I see them, I meet them, then poof, gone. Everything I’ve known, gone. What is crazy? I feel crazy. I do stuff, then it’s gone. Days are gone. My clothes are gone. My past is gone. New people. Same reaction. As soon as they “see” me, they’re gone. This world is not real. Or very, very temporary. Which lines up with God’s word. The issue now; What’s next? I don’t want to move. I don’t want to get out of bed. I don’t want tomorrow. I hate being so…”wrong” and feeling so “right.”
Nothing is real anymore. Jesus is real. Words are real.
Tomorrow is Father’s day. How do survive this? Maybe its not really real.
My life is just a blink. And I hate it.
2 Corinthians 3:18…”The Lord- who is the spirit- makes us more and more like Him as we are as we are changed into his glorious image.”
Transcending.
2 Corinthians 6:8- “We serve God whether people honor us or despise us, whether they slander us or praise us. We are honest, but they call us imposters. We are ignored, even though we are well known. We live close to death, but we have not been killed. Our hearts ache, but we always have joy. We are poor, but we give spiritual riches to others. We own nothing, yet we have everything.”
This is incredible. My vision is changing.
Early on (a few months ago), I earnestly asked God for my family to join me in salvation. I remember it clearly. I was standing in the kitchen at (our old house). I cried out, literally in tears as they slept. God answered;
“You have what you ask for, because you asked it unselfishly.”
I will see my family again. Even if it’s after I die.
My eyes are different. Looking outwardly, the world is not the same. I am evaporating, if you read this Brittany, I love you. Only because God loves me. That’s how I know love, because I’m dying into Gods love. I can’t escape it now, my life is over. I don’t know how long I have left, but soon, it’ll only be God. And I’ve let go. Nothing makes sense outside the Bible. So I’m going to grab the pages of God’s Word with my teeth and let the world disappear, even as if I, myself, disappear.
Here is a quote I just read, on page 305 of ‘Incredibly Loud and Extremely Close.’
“Albert Einstein, a hero of mine once wrote;
“Our situation is the following. We are standing in front of a closed box which we cannot open.”
“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that the vast majority of the universe is composed of dark matter. The fragile balance depends on things we will never be able to see hear, smell, taste, or touch. Life itself depends on them. What’s real? What isn’t real? Maybe those aren’t the right questions to be asking. What does life depend on?
“I wish I had made things for life to depend on.
“Your Friend,
Stephen Hawking”
I’m making words into actions. Jesus’s words, into Jesus actions. For life depends on them. I want to kick my pride. I quote Psalm 131:1 “My heart is not proud, Lord, my eyes are not haughty.”
6/17/2024
Then, Kevin O woke me up at 12:47 a.m., wrote his number in this book, then…. disappeared.
Before church on Father’s Day, I finished the book Frankie let me read. I’m not out of tears, though I’ve filled tubs full. I’ve soaked blankets with them. It’s me, melting from my eyes. I’m being wrung clean. Maybe one tear made it to the concrete church floor below me, dropping between my shoes. I imagine it like acid, eating through to the rocks below the foundation. Even through to the dirt below that. It felt they could do that when they came out. Each tear is filled with exhaustion. Each one is the sum of them all. When this one reaches the soil, it moves into the earth and joins the others, all the tears anyone has ever cred. Even Jesus’s. Then, I picture a dandelion, after joining a river, from a creek, to an ocean, my tear, and salt, and enzymes are drunk in. It absorbs into the roots, up the stem and out to a petal. All the tears that were washed when I cleaned my pillowcase join the others that fell in the tub. All these tears are growing dandelions. Then they’ll grow more. A wild bear in Vancouver drinks them in. A child in Lagos, Nigeria swims through them. Then a giant boulder crumbles into the ocean from a cliff in Madagascar, at the drop of one of my tears. I am becoming a force. I’ve been a force, but now its for Jesus. Everything I do, even a tear, creates a hurricane or an ocean, or a sequoia, or a fresh batch of cookie dough. Life is depending on what I do. Death has lost its sting. I am eternally changed. Someday, I’ll see all of God. It doesn’t so much depend on whether anyone else sees me. Lord, keep melting me. I open Nahum, on the pastor’s queue. I see rocks being shattered and hills melting away and earthquakes before God.
Nahum 1:36 “His way is in the whirlwind and the storm, and clouds are the dust of His feet.”
1:4 “He rebukes the sea and dries it up; He makes all the rivers run dry. Bahan and Carmet wither and the blossoms of Lebanon fade.”
God will dry my tears, and will care for me.
1:7 “The Lord is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in Him…He will pursue His foes into the realm of darkness.”
4:41 p.m.
I drew on my wedding ring. (I’m getting her back.) I spoke to my dad for an hour. (I think) He listened a whole lot. I cried only a little, but often, during the call. It was juice . I thank God. I expected something great today, but as I wandered around, I did not know what to expect. Happy Father’s day, daddy. For generations. I feel breathless right now. Not out of breath, just no need for air. Almost as if, I am air. I want Brittany to see, I’m floating. I’m consumed, like smoke from something that used to be, but is now smoke. Spirit-like.
Kevin Called! That too was such a good voice to hear.
Girshom has been here a week. He’s 18.
6:29 p.m.
I’m peering with something other than my five earthly senses into what I believe is the vast expanse where the Creator speaks to me. Or in other words, I’m listening for the Holy Spirit. Sometimes its dark. Sometimes it’s flashy, like a dark room with the TV on. Sometimes it’s like staring up on a beautifully cloudy day.
It’s loud in here. Packed and rising in temperature.
Pauly and Raene served us dinner. Chicken mole. Just fabulous. The rice was so soft. A job is on my mind. Kevin is on my mind. I’m happily full. My family is on my mind. But I still can’t wait to see Brittany. It’s probably best. My dad is on my mind. The void is on my mind. God’s voice is on my mind. I’m peering with my soul into the beautifully cloudy void. Raene sings so beautifully. I’m melted. In His presence, melt me down. Kevin is on my mind, as Pauly begins speaking. Burbey. Bobby. Jamie. Generational curses. Anger. “Alaska…” “Accountability.”
God makes no sense to the world. “Miracles.” These are my notes. They make no sense. These are notes from God. Pauly sees God. “Pray in the Spirit.” This I do. All. The. Time. I want to be seen right now. Lord, see me right now. “Dreams like memories.”
Brittany is on my mind, in dreams like memories. Help me Father. I draw my wedding ring on. My kids are on my mind. Holy Spirit, You are welcome here. In me. Around me. Through me. Instead of me. I’ve cried a thousand tears in the past five minutes. More tears. I’m in a sea of tears. I’m in a boat, on a frozen river of flowing tears. I’m at the bottom of a mountain. My faith a pickaxe, I’m moving this mountain. My faith in tears, moving mountains. Jesus on my mind. Jesus on the cross. Jesus’ blood on me. Jesus in Alaska. Nigeria. My mind is…
Shhhh… I have the mind of Christ. A sound-mind.
Trajectory. Juxtapose. Parable. Roger, in Willow Springs. Brittany, at home.
“Psalms 3.”
“Tens of thousands.” ..but the God of angel armies. “Tommy Stewart discovered Mike Tyson.” God found me. (The ground gets further away.)
Trajectory.
Straight. Shot. Up.
My tears evaporate into clouds. I evaporate into clouds. I peer into the beautifully cloudy void. The unseen. My eyes are fixed. I don’t need to breathe.
I am air.
I am smoke, from something that used to be, but now is smoke. I wonder if Brittany can sing. I know she can.
8:58 p.m.
It’s like computer blips. Like the remote control changes the channel. I’m back at “home.” Time is jumping around. Like someone is changing the channel, but the same movie is on all the channels at different points in the movie. Every night I sit through the credits at the end of the movie, *Blip.
9:16 p.m.
Back at the beginning of the credits. I’m not sure there is any movie anymore. It’s all just credits. Black and white. Unreadable credits.
*Blip. Black and white. Unreadable credits. Then the sun comes up on the next day and there are people. The same movie starts in the middle, but I can’t remember the faces.
*Blip. 3 guys disappear.
*Blip. Earlier in the movie, different faces.
*Blip. New location.
*Blip. New unrecognizable faces.
*Blip. Black and white credits. Unreadable faces. Black and white dreams like memories. My wife, an unreadable face. Alex. I see her name. She’s in the middle credits.
Alexis Michelle…daughter #5.
How can this be my life?
How can “reality” put me as an extra in a movie about my life?
*Blip. I disappear. Queue credits.
9:35 p.m.
*Blip.
2 Peter 1:7- “This is My dearly loved Son, who brings Me great joy.”
2 Peter 3:8- “A day is like a thousand years to the Lord, and a thousand years is like a day.”
*Blip.”
–Home–
From Death to Life 
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