Early To Mid-30s Platonic Angst (It's Probably The Setting?)

Though I'm not on recreational social media sites like Facebook and Instagram, I did create a LinkedIn profile back when I began working with my parents in '13.  And though I've never attempted to formally connect to anyone, clients, colleagues, etc. do ask to connect with me, therefore I oblige.

This afternoon, I logged into LinkedIn via the smartphone app and found a connection request from someone I knew not of, and then as I scrolled down, I saw someone I did know from many years ago whom LinkedIn believed would also be a good fit for Rob.

Most of my clients are engineers, therefore LinkedIn's algorithm summizes that I'd like to connect locally with more local PEs, and that's how this particular individual's profile surfaced within my "Suggested Connections".  It presented to me a great opportunity to walk down memory lane.

-------------------------

Back in 2006, I began my work as a state of Mississippi employee.  I was around the age of 34 at the time.  Having believed I was headed for a middle school teaching job (which is what I'd academically prepared myself for the summer prior through the Alternate Route program at Mississippi College), I'd secured a part-time gig at First Baptist Church Jackson within the preschool ministry as a sort of plain clothes security guard (to help offset my soon-to-be income shortfall).  Therefore, when my teaching aspirations failed to pan out (zero job offers), I was very fortunate to find that a window had opened for me to work within the Department of Finance & Administration as a staff architect.  Having already made the commitment to FBCJ, I continued forward there as well.  All of this vocational change felt remarkably fresh, therefore inevitably, I began to look around at other aspects of my life that obviously would similarly benefit from some needed improvement.

A sizable part of this exercise unearthed my need to find more authentic friendships.  Unfortunately, the job change from private to public sector offered nothing on that front, therefore church seemed the next logical choice.

Besides also working part-time at FBCJ, we were members there too, and this provided me with the good fortune of rubbing shoulders with the aforementioned (now also on LinkedIn) engineer, "Jacob" and his family.

-------------------------

Jacob and I were of similar age, though his children were younger.  He and his brother both attended First Baptist with their wives / children.  Neither of them had grown up in that church like Angie and I had, therefore I couldn't help but sympathize with his being a newbie.

I remember distinctly wanting to get to know this guy, and the primary draw for me was his personality.  He was very reserved despite his imposing frame, almost to the point of shyness.  His wife, on the other hand, was a much smaller individual though similarly all around beside herself.  Jacob and his brother both were athletically built and tall.  This too was a draw since overall, that just wasn't me -  either in the past or at the present time.

First Baptist Jackson's facilities are over the top for Mississippi.  During its peak back when Angie and I were teenagers, there were thousands upon thousands of Mississippi Southern Baptists who called that church home, many of which were quite wealthy (by Mississippi standards).  Hence, the facilities and location speak to this.  Therefore, the contrast is jarring whilst compared to most every other Protestant church house within a 35 mile radius (if not the entire state).

And just so you know, N. W. Overstreet was the architect for the gothic-style sanctuary / chapel constructed during the mid-20th century at FBC Jackson.  Overstreet is hands down the most renown 20th century Mississippi architect.  Most of his work is noteworthy for its timelessness and intricate detail work.

So here was Jacob and his family attempting to find their place within the commiserate Mississippi mega-church, and me besides who very much wanted to befriend this guy.

-------------------------

Have you every witnessed awkward amongst guys?  I mean, really awkward.

Let me elaborate by offering up an example.

One of my most favorite volunteer positions within the church house (especially so today) is Vacation Bible School.  I dipped my toe into this particular pool during my mid-30s whilst attending FBCJ.  Obviously, being here in Mississippi, the notion of adult men participating as volunteers within VBS is very unusual.  But, I liked the idea of adding some Y chromosomes to the mix of adult leadership within, therefore I made the commitment (& since then haven't looked back).  Typically, other than teenage helpers, I'm one of the only men working throughout the week to hoard the masses.

I remember distinctly stopping Jacob one Wednesday night.  I was manning my plain-clothed security desk within the preschool area and henceforth stumbled through the following proposal.

"I was wondering if you might consider volunteering with me to help out with Vacation Bible School this summer."

He looked down at me with a blank stare, and his wife (from what I recall) did the same from a short stint down the corridor.  And then they both turned and walked away as if I'd never said anything.

So, that was the beginning and the end of my attempts to break the ice with this guy.  It was quick and very painful.

-------------------------

From there, I inevitably saw the two of them twice a week at that same juncture as they made their way into the preschool area to retrieve their children.  Of course, I pretended to not even know either of them at this point due to my former humiliation.  And, of course, over time I just felt more and more isolated and idiotic for even attempting to befriend this guy in such a bizarre manner.  On top of that, the platonic attraction towards him didn't wane.  Actually, the opposite seemed to occur, knowing that all bets were off relative to ever knowing him as I wished to.  

Friendship is a gift of unspoken commitment that you give to another human being.  Growing up sans any siblings, I understood this early on, and therefore mostly took a proactive approach to finding friends.  But, that hadn't changed the fact that I was still sensitive to rejection / scorn, especially considering this new place where I'd found myself vocationally.  A lot of good had gone down within my life at this point, therefore I asked myself the following - why not expect more so long as I'm willing to take the risks?  

-------------------------

More time passed, and eventually, I began to pick up on Jacob and his wife now being platonically "courted" by a much more established (economically) and somewhat older couple within our church.  This couple's children were elementary school age (we knew of their family), yet they'd often accompany Jacob and his wife to the preschool area to retrieve their children after the service, laughing and smiling all the way.  We'll call the husband of this older couple, Richie Rich, for reference.

I began to loathe having to endure my inevitable encounters with these couples versus choosing to embrace some semblance of being glad for their newfound friendship.  Until one day, I found an opportunity to indirectly retaliate as an outgrowth of my loathing.  Which, in looking back, I never should have done.

-------------------------

If you know me at all, I can be very, very direct at times, and mostly, this is a result of me feeling powerless over a situation.  A lot of times though, it's construed as cruelty, and that's unfortunate.  With friends, I tend to have a long "feeling powerless" fuse, but nonetheless, it is a fuse.  Inevitably, there's an end to either me continuing to choose to be the southern gentlemen or the listening observer.  

One Sunday night, Jacob and his fam, accompanied by the Riches, explicitly broke one of the preschool rules.  Not a significant one, but nonetheless, a mandated rule that whilst abided by, made my job as well as the other hourly employees' jobs much easier.

The Preschool Minister who'd hired me back in '06 was a rule maker, and she expected all of us who worked for her to not only follow them but also to enforce, though to what degree regarding the latter was consistently a subject for debate.

So, I gleefully complied on this particular evening by directing my displeasure directly towards Richie Rich.  And as you might imagine, he didn't appreciate this in the least.  From there, he demonstrated this by storming out of the preschool area with what was surely to be a completely concretized vendetta.

After it was all over, I packed up my things and left feeling not only cast aside but a little frightened as well.  For I knew Mr. Rich well enough to know that due to his pedigree, I might very well just lose my side gig.  This reality made me no doubt regret what I'd done.

-------------------------

Eventually, we made a discreet exit from First Baptist Jackson a few years later (around 2008), feeling that our two girls were old enough that we could begin to look elsewhere for what we felt we needed within a church home.  And that lead us to Lakeside Presbyterian Church which sits adjacent to our neighborhood at the Reservoir.  At the time, Lakeside stood in stark contrast to First Baptist for us.  Because of that, it was difficult at first, but still...

I was no less waning for authentic friendships at this point, therefore I emailed one of the associate pastors (who was a few years older than I) asking him to join me for lunch.  Soon after meeting up for the first time, I spilled my guts in order to gauge his reaction right there in Primos Cafe on Lakeland Drive.

And the rest is history (& a very positive one at that).

Lakeside Pres proved to be fertile ground for me to authentically connect with other men as I'd never connected prior.  Even to the point that eventually the elders allowed me to start a Samson Society group there (almost 3 years ago).  It's uncanny.

I can't say that I was expecting any semblance of rejection there, but the opportunities for me to find what I'd longed for were almost too easy compared to what I felt I was up against at First Baptist Jackson (which we'll always consider our traditional church home).

-------------------------

What's the point of this tale?

Don't ever minimize your needs.  Test them, of course, with Scripture, and from there, pray and work diligently to have them met.  Remember too that setting and timing are critically important, but that only the former is really within your control - to any degree.

Today, I hope the best for Jacob and his beautiful family.  LinkedIn's algorithm sure left a lot to be desired whilst making that "Suggested Connection".  Nevertheless, I am glad to be reminded of how far I've been blessed to come relative to authentic friendships.  Looking in from the perceived perimeter gets old quick.  It's within the ring where real life resides.

Samson Society - Pirate Monk podcast - Episode #247 - Highly Recommended

https://samsonsociety.podbean.com/e/episode-274-curt-thompson/

Lakeside Presbyterian Church - Samson Society - Back In Business

Tomorrow morning, Saturday, (5/23) at 7 AM represents a milestone of sorts.

The Lakeside Presbyterian Church Samson Society will once again meet in room B110 there at the church!

This is very exciting news.

Lagniappe

There Are Four Females: 49, 16, 15, & 9 / Keep Your Eyes Open Rob

Yesterday, I sat outside a local Madison restaurant for a few hours at one of their outdoor dining tables biding the time.  My car was being serviced down the road, therefore in lieu of sitting in the garage's waiting room, I set off on foot to find a more comfortable venue.  Fortunately, the day was perfect for being out of doors, therefore I really enjoyed myself whilst also getting a lot of work done.

Over the weekend, I was home alone as the girls enjoyed a short jaunt sans me to rural Yazoo county.  It was wonderful having the abode to myself to speak to for days on end.  This always helps me reset my head.  And this is needed on occasion because when they're with me, I usually do what I can to keep to myself - at least from the standpoint of dialogue.  My thinking is - why compete with so many voices?

As opening time approached at the deli I was stationed out in front of, I took note of a handful of cars that pulled up to the front door in order to drop off a young black female employee(s) who was soon to start her / their shift work.  In each case, the cars were packed with young, black females, a few of which had babies in their arms.  Growing up here in Mississippi, what I was seeing wasn't new to me.  This represented the norm.  Blacks here in our state mostly live impoverished, marginalized lives, therefore in order to survive, they pool their resources generationally & platonically.  Or at least the black females do.  

Taking all that I was observing into consideration, in light of my present situation as a father / husband, this devastatingly sad racial / gender reality hit me particularly hard yesterday.

-------------------------

Angie and I married almost 24 years ago at First Baptist Church Jackson.  Immediately following, we made a commitment to be involved within a young newlywed Sunday School class - no matter where we chose to worship.  And this brought us in contact with lots and lots of other middle to upper-middle class white couples who were similarly within the throes of newlyweddedness as we were.

One Saturday during this season, many decades prior, we attended a weekend dinner party hosted by a fellow couple which had been organized for the entire class.  I recall vividly using their upstairs restroom during the event and whilst sifting through their reading material down by the loo, finding a copy of a paperback titled How To Make Your First Million Dollars.

I must have read and re-read that title twenty-five times as I sat there relieving myself.  

Just holding the book made me feel shallow (& I might add superior).  From there, I felt pity regarding the state of humanity.  But especially regarding the state of man-kind.

Soon thereafter, we made a discreet exit from the party, and I struggled to see this couple with clear eyes from that point onward.

Stupid book and stupid superficial me.

-------------------------

The role of father to daughters solidifies as daughters grow, and I would argue the role of husband does too.  No doubt, my Sunday School colleague felt drawn to the pursuit of material wealth as a means of obtaining a positive identity as his wife's new husband (at the time few couples within our class had children).  And this makes sense, but man, it seemed so very pagan to me at the time.  Whilst looking back though, I didn't really know anymore than he did relative to whom exactly I needed to position myself to be as husband (much less a future father).

But having a lot of grey hair above my ears and three daughters to rear has changed all of that.  Not to mention living smack dab in the middle of the racially polarized, economically depressed Magnolia State.

-------------------------

The world we live in is and will always be a man's world.  Therefore, for women to thrive, they need fathers / husbands who're wise to this truth and therefore looking out for the best interests of the women / girls they're called to serve.

Let me repeat that because it's of upmost importance.

The world we live in is and will always be a man's world.  Therefore, for women to thrive, they need fathers / husbands who're wise to this truth and therefore looking out for the best interests of the women / girls they're called to serve.

I want to circle back to the beginning of this post and mention again my recent weekend alone.  

A fair amount of that time was spent with friends who're also men, doing things that we as men enjoyed together.  Obviously, being a short-term bachelor helped to facilitate those encounters.

But, I can tell you, that time alone - even as sweetened as it was with friendship - didn't satisfy me as my now opportunistic yet very routine time being husband / father does.

Why was / is that?

It all goes back to those black females I saw yesterday morning filing out of those Japanese sedans with their delicatessen uniforms on (as they handed off their babies one to the other).  What a sobering reminder that certainly was (for me) of the pivotal role I'm privileged to play as husband / father and therein the impact it does / will no doubt make down the road.

Bring it on.

Understanding Yourself In & Through Your Archetype

In looking back on my first foray into Internet porn, I was fortunate to immediately come across my archetype - literally the very first day.  It was as if the images were on standby waiting for me to logon that evening.

Considering that, it was all downhill from there relative to what exactly I was interested in searching for anti-climatically.  Hence, over time. it became much less of a search and more of the same thing on repeat 'till eventually, I realized my frenzied pursuit was drawing to a close (having circled back to where I'd started a number of times).

I believe many men have an archetype that embodies their ideal sexual standard, and taking this truth into account, so much of our western entertainment / infamy culture is fueled therein.  So much so, in fact, that I believe celebrities are oftentimes that much more in demand for film / TV programming based on their success in striking / embodying those individual ideals.  That is - via characterization -it's a painting with as broad a consumer-friendly / capturing brush as possible.

-------------------------

So what is an archetype?

It is not a fetish.  A fetish is much too arbitrary an itch compared to an archetype.  Instead, an archetype represents the ideal.  It's a laser-focused embodiment of being perfectly suited, so to speak.

Why is identifying one's archetype important (if you have one)?

I believe it serves you well from the standpoint of knowing fully how your own head (on your shoulders) operates.

-------------------------

This past Friday evening, I had my second meeting with a newish (to me but not to him) SS friend.  This "part two" was his time to wrap up sharing with me a narrative of sorts that he'd compiled (handwritten) over the past few months.  The notebook that he'd chronicled within was a sadness / joy compilation featuring countless individuals that had been within his sphere of influence throughout his +/-30 year lifespan.  The point of this exercise was for him to categorically and systematically look hard at every single personal influence that he'd encountered throughout his life from the standpoint of being both helpful (joy) and hurtful (trauma).  And my goodness, did he ever do a stellar job!  I learned so much about him and his life (as well as my own).  It truly was a once in a lifetime experience for me.

A sizable portion of our discussion last Friday evening centered around archetypes and the pull / influence they have over us.  Subsequently, what grew out of that conversation was discovering that for my friend, his archetype actually was made known to him in real life by way of a former girlfriend.  This was uncanny to me, having only met my own via Internet porn alone.

-------------------------

Back to my former question, but phrased a little differently.  What brandishes value in studying / paying homage to one's archetype?

Let me introduce you to St. Martin in the Fields Church.

This church is in London and was constructed in the early 1700s.  The architect was Mr. James Gibbs.  To put this church into historical perspective, the original colonies were still far from declaring their independence when this was designed / built, and the church itself was sited "out in the country" at the time relative to the city proper.

What makes it significant is its service as the archetype for countless protestant church buildings around the world over the past 300 years.  For us Americans, we've seen the basics of this design an awful lot, and the reason for that is as follows:  To the western world the design of St. Martin in the Fields  absolutely, positively, and so effectively says CHURCH.  Plus, it's easily site adapted and relatively inexpensive to construct.

What set this ecclesiastical design trend in motion all those years ago?  Whom decided to dub St. Martin's in the Fields as such?  

Now, whilst attempting to answer that question, keep in mind that until this building was designed by Mr. Gibbs and subsequently constructed, none other existed that was quite exactly like this one.  And regarding Mr. Gibbs, do you think he set out to design a church building that would become an archetype which may just actually carry forward 'till Jesus' second coming?

-------------------------

A young friend of mine shared with me a time in his vocational life when he found himself "in the zone" (his words).  He described this experience as unique to his role at his work, but finding himself there, given the opportunity, he excelled tremendously.  (Just to give you a little more specific minutiae, he found himself hitting a homerun within a very reputable comrade-based speaking event).  

Now, the question comes down to this.  Could my young friend have entered into his "zone" had he made that same speech to an empty auditorium?  In other words, do or can archetypes or archetypical experiences exist / come to fruition within a vacuum?

-------------------------

Now, let's circle back to my new friend whom I visited with over the past few Friday evenings.  You'll recall I mentioned earlier that he'd essentially dated his archetype at one point in time.

Here's me seguing into my commentary (hold onto something):

I'm convinced that archetypes exist / come to fruition only in light of their ability to expertly meet real-time needs, therefore there's a dynamic exchange that plays out inevitably between us and them.  That exchange promotes understanding or aliveness that's situated squarely within the relationship between the need(s) and the solution, and it's that aliveness within us that in turn promotes them to top dog status (within our mind).

Another one of those humanity traits (I mentioned adaptability prior) is our criticality.  We rank constantly - our looks, other's looks, our pay, other's pay, our abodes, other's abodes, our spouses, other's spouses.  And from there, we rank our day, our mood, and on and on.  It's a mainstay of being human, and it speaks to our fallen nature, but primarily the fallen nature of the world around us.

 -------------------------

Archetypes, if and when they're acknowledged, offer us an opportunity.  That being to understand our own needs, desires, internal makeup by reverse engineering.

And that understanding, I believe, can even begin to equate to the aliveness that we experienced firstly via that initial encounter with said archetype.

There is so much longstanding richness and value if we're willing to do that good but rigorous work.  

God Doesn't Love You. All He's Out To Do Is Punish & Shame.

It's difficult at times to see our Heavenly Father with any Biblical accuracy.  And this is especially true when we're not able to look back onto ourselves and hold a steady, non-judgmental (fleshly) stare.  We'll never be God, therefore seeing ourselves as he sees us is only possible when we hear directly from him via his Word, or taking the Holy Spirit into consideration, through those who communicate on his behalf about us.  But too, there's the need to quantify / qualify what God made in us as his image-bearers.  This is an important step.  For I would argue we always start within our own understanding of ourselves whilst acknowledging God.  Therefore, if our Enemy can short-circuit that, he's one step ahead of distorting our view of our Creator.

During this time of quarantine, many of us are choosing to face - more and more - who we are, and this is due to the fact that circumstantially the world as we know it has changed overnight.  And if we're finding that our personal "review" is skewed towards the worthlessness end of the qualitative spectrum, then I'm convinced many of us also - in tandem with that view - choose to see God more towards the punisher end of the spectrum.  

Why is this?

-------------------------

Years ago, I worked at the state of MS with a man who was about my age despite the fact that his physical build was much older than my own.  And this was no doubt due to his lifelong disregard for any form of exercise / eating healthily.  Overall, his passion was work and being hyper-critical of everyone around him (which he was an expert at).  To sum him up, he was brilliant but secretly eat up with worthlessness, and despite the fact that he was just a few years older than I, his physical self was much older.

During one holiday season, we had a Christmas party for our bureaucracy one evening off site.  There were about 20 of us that attended with our families.  It was apparent this guy loathed being there, having zero means of pretending otherwise.  The following week, someone projected a photo slide show within our conference space.  The images were candid photos taken at said Christmas party.  Most of our bureau wandered in and out of presentation in order to reminiscence in an effort to take it (back) in.

What stood out to me was what happened when a photo would be projected containing the aforementioned worthlessness man.  

He would wince.  Literally.

As if he were being hit with internal pangs of disgust at the images of himself.

It was depressing to witness.

I mean, I know even today I'm not all that keen regarding seeing photos of Rob, but this man's reaction was more akin to how I used to react to photos of myself back in middle school.  And because that period of my life was so detrimental to my understanding of God (through my understanding of myself), I'm in tune to this wretched state of mind even today.

-------------------------

This iconic photo was referenced by a Samson Society friend of mine a few years back.  It was his GoTo graphical analogy for our Heavenly Father at the time.  Again, to reiterate what I said earlier.  The Punisher.  Is there any more suitable 20th century icon who's more well suited to this title than Mohammed Ali?

-------------------------

To summarize, I'm convinced Satan is tactical in his methods of distorting who we see and understand God to be, and that his primary line of attack relative to this distortion is what we believe / how much we see accurately of our own created selves.  The Bible uses the analogy that we as human beings are like dumb sheep.  That gives me little faith in myself as a clear-headed holistically comprehended man.  Do you get my drift? 

What's the logical, spiritually healthy step here if we're stuck not being able to see ourselves accurately?  How might our understanding of God eventually be impacted if we don't take those steps?  

And finally, is it possible to hate God in line with our own personal disdain for who we understand ourselves to be?  

As Sarah Palin would say, "You betcha" (to that 3rd question).

-------------------------

This dear reader is the cover of a beefcake magazine.  "Exercise For Men Only" was published back in the late '80s when I was a boy.  When I peered at the photos of these men whilst perusing through the pages of these mags at my local K & B drugstore in northeast Jackson, something heady stirred inside of me that said, "I want what they have, and realistically, the easiest way to obtain it is to firstly discount / invalidate my own worth."  Therefore, I put those muscular, masculine physiques at the upper echelon of importance relative to what Rob qualified as value tied to manhood, and conversely, I discounted anything and everything contained within my own created self (as I comprehended it at the time).  

Please understand who I was as a Madison county middle schooler.  

First and foremost, I was highly, highly visual.  Therefore, beautiful beefcake photos like this one were the bane of Rob.  And this was because I'd never seen imagery like this prior.  Never had I stepped foot in a gym or locker room much less onto a southern California beach where young men like this might peruse around semi-nude.    

I grew up adoring comic books and cartoons.  Science fiction film and television programming were absolutely glorious finds / escapes for me as a young boy.  Hence, my imagination was an efficient, well-oiled machine.

My father was emotionally unavailable, and my mother, I felt, couldn't be trusted with my feelings (mainly due to her being female).  I had no siblings, and no adult male role models (who were close in proximity).  At the time, my life consisted of me, myself, and I, living up in my teenage head day after day after day.

So, I began creating my own role models by using beefcake magazines to sexually fantasize, and from there God too became none other than the Punisher.  I was all too familiar with Scripture and how it condemned both lust and homosexual activity in reaction to what I was doing upstairs whilst pulling on my thingy.

But, I couldn't stop.  The fantasies were fulfilling and oh so pleasurable.  The illusion of being valued within these dreams actually sufficed.  They had to.  There was no other means for me to survive my internal disdain and subsequent God confusion.

-------------------------

I spent some time with my Silas last night, and I was explaining to him that the firmest identifier of humanity is our penchant for adaptability.  

If you purchase a beautiful, healthy plant at the nursery, you'd best plant and nurture it as recommended.  Otherwise, it likely won't stay alive for very long.  

Humans are the opposite of that.  And so often that adaptability grows out of our flesh (sin nature).  This is what fuels many human rights (legal) conversations that are rooted in equality.  

So really, it's not that we're just dumb sheep, but we're also no doubt blind and dumb sheep.  And this is so much worse.

-------------------------

Yesterday, I spent some time with a friend over breakfast who's dealing with the wretched ramifications of vocational envy.  My heart absolutely breaks for this man.  I've known him for many years, and there's no doubt that he's both humble and devout.  Though he was uncomfortable hearing it, I attempted to reflect truthfully into him who God has made him to be as we sat there (+/-6'-0" apart).  And this today has reminded me of subtle experiences I had growing up where older men were kind enough to do this for me.  Not necessarily with the same intensity / intentionality, but definitely with the (hopefully) similar worthwhile effectiveness.

These men (used no doubt by the Holy Spirit) were my employers, college professors, and so forth.  People that I had the good fortune to rub shoulders with day in and day out during the mundaneness of life's circumstances.  They were men whom I chose to not ignore or discount because I was in someway circumstantially obligated to pay heed to their input (respect).

Over time, enough of this goodness amassed within me that it allowed me to eventually choose to stop my beefcake fantasy life.  And when that ceased, I slowly began to see myself more clearly, and this in turn positively impacted by accurate view of my Heavenly Father.  Therefore, my commitment to Bible study and prayer turned the corner as well as all manner of church work itself.   

Of course, much of that growth did hit a seriously tumultuous patch when the Internet came on the scene (Internet porn), but had those initial seeds not been planted, I'm convinced the bondage that I was once in would no doubt be just as enveloping (& isolating) as ever here in 2020.

Thanks be to God for his steadfast hand within the life of this particular sheep.  He is no doubt so much more than I every initially saw him to be.

Lagniappe

Suicide

When I was in high school, a boy (who also attended my high school) one year older than I, lost his father to suicide.  This man was divorced from my peer's (his son's) mother and attended church with us, therefore my dad knew him.  

I clearly remember my father taking me to the funeral.  It was in the chapel of First Baptist Church one weekday afternoon.  This boy I knew little about despite the fact that he'd been a part of my cub scout troop years prior.  As a teen, he was very quiet despite his dashing good looks.

As a sidenote, it's important that you know that my dad had a stellar experience as a cub / boy scout as a Mississippi Delta youth, therefore despite my lackluster interest in scouting as his son, he held sway to the natural comradery and subsequent respect for any kid who'd given it a chance.

Regarding suicide, I learned quickly that it begs the question of cause of death, and that oftentimes firearms are involved in those answers.

-------------------------

Yesterday, YouTube's algorithm recommended a Darrin Patrick video to me, and I clicked.  The video was of Pastor Darrin preaching on the topic of "Did Jesus Have A Best Friend?".  It was a wonderful sermon to take in.  

From there, I did a search on Pastor Darrin and that's when I saw it.

The headline stating that Darrin had killed himself last Thursday.  He was 49.  Just one year older than Rob.

I was flabbergasted.  From there, I stood up from my desk and grabbed the sides of my head as the room began to spin.  I moaned as I held my skull in my hands and peered down at the floor for all of five minutes.

All I could think about was Darrin's family, but especially his 13-year old son.  Then immediately following, I thought about Darrin's recent pastoral recovery / reconciliation that's been so well documented.  And finally this morning, I began to think about what may have been going on under the surface within Darrin's life that obviously was too much for him to bear.

When I lost my job back in 2013, the trauma that ensued relative to how that termination was handled, amounted to me being emotionally raped and subsequently impregnated with a massive sense of worthlessness.  From there, I developed PTSD 3 to 4 months after, and it was then that I began to hear voices inside my head.  Really nasty voices.

They would ask, "Why don't you kill yourself?".  It sure as hell seemed to be a worthwhile suggestion at the time.  I cannot underestimate to you, dear reader, how overwhelmingly intense the emotional pain was.  And there seemed to be no end in sight.  It was as if my heart had been removed from my chest and immersed in acid.

-------------------------

By God's grace, one morning I awoke and realized the suicidal harbinger had left me.  I again could see life with clarity, therefore it obviously had moved on.  And ever since then, by God's grace, it's never returned.

What I realized, thanks to that experience, was despite this horrific state of mind I was having to manage day to day, my life / my responsibilities didn't cease.  There were expectations to be met even though I wasn't at all emotionally up to the task.  In the end, it's a head game that's terribly, terribly isolating in and of itself.

The very best thing I did do through all of this was tell my wife what was going in inside my head.  From there, she encouraged me to talk to my father.  And, as has always been the case, my father sought out professional help for his son.  That help came in the form of Mr. Don Waller, and from there, I was ushered into the Samson Society group he facilitated at First Baptist Church.

-------------------------

Having dealt with my sexual identity issues throughout my life with a certain degree of aplomb, I never imagined me being vulnerable to this.  But the truth is, given the right circumstances, everyone is.  Our emotional core is perfectly suited to traumatic impacts given the right circumstances / timing.  And overall, this life we live as men - particularly if we're also husbands / fathers is very, very challenging indeed. 

Though I'd never met you, Pastor Darrin Patrick, I will miss you.  Today, my heart aches over this horrible loss.  It has definitely pushed me backwards into that place where my scars are well visible.

Lagniappe