THE LONG ROAD

Journal Entry, August 23, 2010

Summer will soon pass. Fall has already made herself known through the subtle changing of leaves and the early crickets and cicadas. My favorite time of the year ends too quickly while the anguish of this stubborn vertebra/spine condition continues its incessant misery. I refuse to allow this difficult trial to overcome me and I continue to stand form in my faith as well as touching deeply the people who come through my life.

These times and people are the fodder that make my book, life and story so compelling. Baby step by baby step, I make progress with my 5 book series, “Arise From Your Grave!” Sue Ross, my mentor and publicist has been very supportive as we draft the details of my business plan. Amazing that I go through my darkness and she has just recently gone through hers. Now she is truly able to empathize with my illness.

My music has still been a sad area as I put it one the back burner of my spirit. Seeing and listening to the quality of other artists recordings only rubs salt in my wounds. I wonder why God didn’t allow me to be surrounded and tutored by knowledgeable collaborators and musicians who knew what the current sound is. These have had the luxury of enjoying their honing of their craft, going to music college, having professional music lessons and having parents or friends in the business to help them polish their art. Amazing the vibrant health to be able to tour and travel to shows and stay up late hobnobbing with the finest. I know if God gave me the chance, I could be a Celine Dion.

My flesh lusts after great health and polished collaborators, producers and engineers, but I brush aside the need less sadness that I know is the enemy trying to make me look backwards! That is always His device, to make us lust after the garlic and the leeks of EGYPT, lol! .

So I cherish the funeral services I’ve sung at, holding hands with weeping family members and sitting at the feet of Jesus. I thank God for the opportunity to give a 89 year old man, walking with a cane in the rain, down Route 70. I’m driving a BMW sport car, but I’m just like that old man, broken, needy and so in need of Jesus grace.

This is my 12 year delivering telephone books for PDC. This time, rather than ask God why I’m not on tour and performing at Carnegie Hall, I thank Him for His presence and for being able to get my favorites routes in the areas I like. Each year, I find beautiful furniture left out on the curb or make a new friends for life. I love the fresh air, exercise and being with my little cat, Peewee. A girl couldn’t ask for more.

Yes, the road has been, (and still is) so long. I go to bed at night and believe that tomorrow I ‘ll no longer have the horrendous cracking in my jaw and the unbearable fatigue. Less and less, I’m asking God not to let me wake up in the morning.

When I visited Daddy and Cruz, my Aunt Brenda had come from North Jersey to visit. Three of my other precious aunts called me up, specifically to pray for me. One of my aunts said she prays for me everyday. As well as dear brothers and sisters from my churches and my artist/musicians friends online. Only God knows all the people praying for me.

I look forward to learning about the mysterious craft of pop songwriting with my new friend Clif, a gifted songwriter. Since he's come into Mark's and my life, he's shown an interest in helping me to hone my artist as a mentor and guide. Had Clif been my music mentor ten years ago, where would I be?

I think about these things...the loss of my health, the long passage of time, my age and the wasted money and resources because of creating without the proper guidance and tools. I’ve learned now to be grateful for the smallest thing. Most of all, I have a compassion and pity for those who have nothing, no destiny, no plan and no hope. Struggling, lacking, failing and suffering teaches you to be compassionate and eager to guide, nurture and help others soar into their destiny...because you know what it’s like to have everything against you.

I pray that everyday, I will immediately put myself in another’s shoes...imagine what it’s like and God will take it from there!

MY BED in HELL, Journal Entry, March, 20, 2010

When God throws you into the sea of turmoil, you claw for life like a terrified cat thrown into the river for the first time. There is no rhythm to the undulation of daily pain and I'm more consumed with the torment that my hell will never end. The more I struggle to clamor into the presence of the King, the more I'm pulled in different opposing directions, yet I still grope for El Shaddai, the God of all comfort.

As I type and compose this message, every other word is misspelled and needs to be spell-checked. The former flowing creatively thoughts flowing from my mind is now interrupted by the ugly chore of going backwards each sentence to correct misspellings and typos. Very fun.

This miserable condition called Dystonia has truly made life and living a chore. The hobbies and gifts I've enjoyed in the past are nothing more than a ritualistic way to move past the hours in the hopes that maybe tomorrow, the incessant spasms will end and I can move forwrd to enjoy my life and what God has called me to do.

I want to run. I want to hide. I want to be carried off into Elijah's chariot away from the pulling of my spirit, the irritations of my soul and the constant, exhausting efforts of opposing and pushing against. And there are many who are in worse conditions than I. Poor souls who cannot even speak, they must talk through an electronic instrument. Some cannot feed themselves their hands are gnarled and drawn up to their chests.

Dystonia a living hell I wouldn't wish on my worse enemy. This trial has been too long for me, three years and two months. I must pretend to be happy, after all I'm a long-time Christian. Christians should NOT reveal their pain and disgust with themselves or their sufferings...and when they do, they are rebuked and so-called friends will disconnect because they cannot handle the ugliness of the reality of chronic illness.

Count it all joy...my brethren...but don't complain OUT loud. No one wants to hear you die, LOL!

Sometimes I hold on and put on a strong face, but I'm not really strong. Any supplement or treatment that gives me the hope of some relief, I'll take.

And so, tomorrow is another day. I wonder how long Job suffered scraping himself of his boils. How many months or years before God gave him back his health, His children and his wealth? How many of us have truly wept at the suffering of this faithful man? He is now my second hero after Jesus Christ, of course. What piety and nobility that Job said, "The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed is the name of the LORD. Yet though HE slay me."

I concur with you, Job! Where can I go from the Lord. Whether I make my bed in hell or reach the lofty mountain tops, I lift up my eyes to Lord in n whom my helps comes from. So be it Amen.