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The Dashing Life and Exuberant Times of Brian Harrison....And Other Rare Anecdotes

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Fragments Of A Wandering Son

I am going to go ahead and warn you that the below is going to be very ambiguous for most and altogether just plain weird for others. I wrote the following not as a means for clarification, but as a means for expression. It had to come out. Besides I really like it when people speak in an esoteric language. The below is an attempt at giving some sense of form to my phase in life. It is also very fragmented which I believe is another parallel with my current frame of mind. My best advice is to read it slow. Not as information but as an underlying truth.

I came to my senses about the time the true hunger pangs began. Pangs I didn't know it was possible to feel. Lying face forward in the muck having called myself a god in this arena of pigs.

It seems I had so much to recollect covered in mud. The thought of loss, the memory of youth, the gnaw of a blank stomach makes one reel in the darkness. And the topsy turvy of the paths you once trusted and claimed as real as the day, fall from under your feet and you stumble down the stony traces of impatience and insecurity.

All my thoughts were attached to some uncertainty. My core beliefs clung hands with their opposing doubts. I walked across the threshold of my house into the wilderness seeking the answers to the riddles I kept hearing.

I passed a barren field in my journey for absolute love and freedom. I had nothing to confine me. The sky was high, the horizon was far, and my shadow was long; Only the sounds of my own echoing footsteps told me I was there. My plugged ears longing to hear the voice that I was deaf to. Anger and scorn burned brightly and I walked on.

Yes, I played the part of a fatherless cowboy chasing the wind, collecting the burs, in many a scene. I never could get the timing just right, but I was a real fighter. I kicked against the pain and scoffed at the yoke where many were too weak to overthrow.

Love and fear, we all prance through trails with these words slung about our clothing. I tied one to my belt; I hid the other up my sleeve. And now I've lain behind these fences seeking to protect my heart from the reckless attack it wages against itself.

All the while, this accusative pig farmer, he's a real cruel tyrant, kicking me in the head whenever I find the strength to stand up.

I have become both the betrayer and the betrayed in these circumstances. Every remedy runs through me like water in my attempt to ease my fall as I lie among the dirt, the stench, and the hooves. How is it that everything seemed to point to the deliberate confidence of man and now everything crumbles back into unformed clay? I look into the vibrant breathings of nature and I see meaning. I always have and I always will.

I raise my eyes to the hills just over those forest tops, past the sulphuric fog, through the tremelous mists that creep about the sky, across the rivers of rupture and beyond these segregated sands that fills my eyes, there lies my home...where my Father walks, his mere shadow casting light upon those beckoning doorsteps.

Sunday, February 12, 2006

Contemplations on the Fair Sex

Yes, the wonderful world of women...I have not been in the correct frame of mind to write hardly anything lately due to my venture into this troublesome realm. I have just come to an important insight in my life and I snapped out of the depression that had my head hung so low. An insight that I found myself almost laughing at as I lay in the shower ( a perfect antidote for the blues and for one's reawakening spiritual life.) This insight is that God uses women to speak to me. Not only does God use women, the devil uses them also. In fact anybody that wants to get my undivided attention will use women as well. All the major traumas of my latter years have been totally and significantly attached to the female species. Some people categorize their life into school years, some into work eras, and some into trends. I categorize my life into epochs of which girl I was with or after. Most of the time these epochs have alot to do with, and I'm being completely serious, my relationship with God.
What is it about them? Why does my spiritual life revolve around this seductive Eve? It hasn't always been this way. It was only a couple of years ago that I could even speak to them. And now both God and the devil present one grand puppet show through them. I, always being the one puppet caught up in the tangled lines.
Some 6 years ago...I experienced a trauma that was unlike anything before. I fell into a love pit that took me a great amount of time to get out of. -And who was standing there helping me and brushing off the shatters of my heart from my clothes? But God.
Then not too long after I was in a missionary school and fell for this missionary's daughter. Some of the greatest times of my life were spent at that school but the last three months were spent in pure agony as the devil used this godly girl to make me an irrational fool punching holes in walls out of jealousy and anger, things that an apprentice missionary should not be about.
Next, I was on a huge spiritual kick on the mission field in Russia. I believe that God brings messengers to those longing to hear...so, yes, I believe that God placed me at the right time in the right place to baptize Lena. But then something changed...some how my relationship with God became less passionate while my relationship with this Russian girl became very passionate. I was almost kicked off the mission field for dating (which was frowned upon with good reason). It's almost as though the devil uses the cards that God had just used and vice versa.
Then almost 2 years ago I fell for a girl in tropical Panama, (an American though), and I hit my knees like I've never done before praying that God would make her my wife. I learned a whole lot about prayer, a whole lot about myself, and whole lot about God during that time. And it all started with this very selfish wish that God would please give me this girl that I was making out with on the Coast of the Caribbean. It didn't happen. I remember standing as best man for my brother's wedding trying to hold back the tears, not from my brother's joy, but for my own lady sorrows. However, God used that situation like none before to draw me closer to Him. That's where I found out about praying and meditating while sitting in the shower. And a closeness with God continued after I'd given up the idea of the girl. I would pray a solid 3 fairly lenghty times a day as a result of my make out sessions in Central America. God is wonderful with the way he changes motives.
But then only two months later, I'm at Harding and there are beautiful women crawling around starving for men. So likewise, I forgot about praying so hard and began to think of ingenious crazy ways to pursue. You could say that I got a certain thrill from the chase. But the playing field was too plentiful to actually get serious. I think the devil was getting my attention off God. And most of the bonding time that I spent with the guys...we just talked about women.
And now, with my current situation, I languish around knowing full well the cards that the devil as been dealing me. Cards which I've been willing to gamble with. And now I weep nearly everyday I believe, crying for the Lord to deliver me....I thought that I had found the love of my life....And I'm probably right, God being the true love of my life and He telling me where my heart should always be.