I never expected my recovery from Cancer to take so long. My last Chemo/Radiation treatment took place last April, almost a year ago. Well, the Cancer is one hundred percent gone but these lingering painful effects seem to not want to leave my body. That is until today.
I've been vacationing in California for the last few days thanks to my good friend Andre Ashby who made it possible for me to come and spend ten restful days in sun-drenched Corona, California (during my down time as I wait to start my new job in April). I love spending time with Andre. Not only is he a passionate lover of God but he is someone I respect and highly esteem in my life. Whenever I'm around him I get to experience more of God's presence, which translates into uproarious laughter. Andre is an introvert by nature and being around a lot of people tends to wear him out. I sometimes scratch my head how God would call him to a life of public ministry with this being the case but if you have ever sat in one of his meetings you can attest to the tangible and thunderous presence of God. He carries a genuine "breaker" anointing (a supernatural authority to break open things in the spirit). I have personally witnessed people's lives changed and touched by God when he ministers. Today was no different. I am always honored to go to churches where Andre has been invited to speak at and see how God uses him.
Today was no different as Andre, his assistant Eli, and myself made our way to The Carpenter's House in Fontana, CA. God moved in power as Andre sang prophetically and then spoke about God's desire to dwell amongst a people who would move in His power and might. Andre admonished us with great passion to no longer be spectators but to go deeper and higher into everything God has for us as believers. As always, Andre tore down the altars of religiosity and lifeless traditions and prepared us to receive the anointing and freedom that sets people free to experience and know God in a tangible way. After speaking into people's lives with prophetic messages he began to give out words of knowledge concerning infirmities and afflictions. Many people responded and were healed.
At one point, Andre called me to step out of my seat and receive God's healing touch. He prayed over the residual effects of Chemo/Radiation. I felt a surge of heat swirling through my body and began to tremble from the strong sensation manifesting inside me. I love it when God comes and makes his presence known. As I stood there receiving healing prayer I had a definite sense something had taken effect inside me. I wanted to fall to the floor from the strong vibrations I was sensing but I resisted. Not sure if that was the best thing to do considering that I was resisting the Holy Spirit out of pride. I kept thinking to myself "Oh no, don't make a scene in front of these people. Keep it together. Whatever you do, don't fall out!" I wonder how many times I grieve the Holy Spirit when I go into panic mode? How sad. Yet God still honors me and blesses me with himself. What can I say about this but that He loves me with an everlasting and unquenchable love.
I must get back to the days during my youth when I did not care what people thought or had to say but only that God would do with me as He pleased. In my attempts to be "mature" and come across as "stable" I have quenched the Holy Spirit. I'll be the first to confess I am more often than not concerned with people's opinion and assessments than I am of God's words on a given subject. How sad. Almost tragic if you think about it. When was the last time another human-being gave of themselves as generously and freely to me as God has? Or as loving, for that matter. I guess this only shows the true nature and condition of my heart and how much I desperately need God to break me open, change, and transform me. Thankfully, I know He loves me with such an intensely jealous love, He will not give up on me until I am completely transformed and perfected into His image. I believe this with all my heart and whatever it takes it will come to pass in my life.
Andre spoke powerfully about repentance not only being a turning away from wrong-doing but a conscious effort to change one's thoughts on a matter. With that said, I repent of my man-pleasing tendencies and begin the journey back to believing and accepting what God says about a given situation. This will require practice on my part but it is possible to do and well worth it.
Well, to my pleasant surprise when three o' clock came around and it was time to pop a pain killer (as I have been doing for weeks now) I realized the pain was gone. Gone! As I write this, seven hours later, I am still free of pain and rejoicing at God's healing touch. He did it! He brought me cross-country to receive complete healing. Thank you, Lord!
I will continue to stand in agreement with my healing. I know the enemy will come soon enough and do his best to try and cause me to doubt but I will not listen to Him and keep declaring: "I am a sign and a wonder of God's power and love. I was born for such a time as this...to display in my life His greatness and might!" Will you stand with me and agree with me that "He did not bring me out this far to turn me back again? He brought me out to take me into the Promised Land... the rightful inheritance of those who trust and put their hope in a Living God.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
REPOST: Facing My Greatest Fear
The following was written back in September 2009 when after a visit to my Church from a respected "x-gay" leader I was thrown into what many can identify with as "A Desolation of the Soul". Well, today for whatever the reason, I am feeling it again and am wrestling with my emotions. After having read what I wrote in September, I am once again re-posting in the hope that as I do this and spend the next day wrestling with my life, God will come and speak his peace to my lonely heart. One comforting word from his mouth will calm this heart. Thank you for letting me share.
REPOST: September 2009
Tuesday night threw me for a loop, to say the least. I've had two days to process through my feelings and emotions and I'm still reverberating with slight tremors of sadness. It creeps up on me without notice and I find myself sighing deeply, catching my breath and fighting back the tears that want to rush to the surface. I know I have to let it out and I am due a long soulful cry but at the moment I have other pressing needs vying for my attention. Adulthood and all the responsibilities that come with it make it difficult at times to just stop and give in to the self-care regimen required for healthy and optimum life experiences. You have to believe me when I tell you that I desperately want what is good for me. I yearn for all those things imaginable and inherent in all men to be happy and at peace.
Right about now, I long for the days when my Church played long worship sets on Sunday mornings, which usually consisted of forty-five minutes or more of live music. It was enough time for me to engage the divine within me and allow for the emotions held at bay deep inside to come cascading to the surface in the sweetest release of tears; pure manifestations of longing and intimacy. Spirit lovingly embracing my brokenness. Soothing me. Calming the tempests while stirring this heart of passion. Enough time for a good cry before the throne of grace, which always left me feeling lighter, calmer, full of warmth and at peace. Yet part of growing up, I guess, is leaving behind childish things and finding new ways to deal with these bottled up emotions. I am being taught to seek the answers to my emotions, spirit, and soul in contemplative silence. I am trying my best to do just that. I desperately want to fit in and stand on common ground and equal footing with my brothers and sisters. So I am working hard to learn and center myself and seek God in stillness. Honestly, I feel like a circle trying to take the shape of a square. Hasn't this always been the case with me? Always feeling like I never belong; whether in church or out in the streets. In a community where emotional and spiritual health is the road to travel and where many seem to be well on their way to achieving the balance and equilibrium I desperately seek and envy in others; I fall short time and time again. My attempts at contemplative silence end up being misinterpreted as gloomy and sulky depression. A silent "me" makes for an uncomfortable and uneasy exchange in any gathering. May it never be said I was one to consciously dominate or one prone to call attention to myself unless it was called for. I love to be the center of attention, I do, but the need to fit in and belong easily overwrites any tendency at being in the limelight. I'm your man if you ever need entertainment and good laughs at parties and social gatherings but when it comes to church and stuff of that nature I'd much rather let someone else take the lead and shine.
Comiskey's comment about men such as myself who call themselves "Gay-Celibates" as being false and and without merit has left me inconsolable. I so want to be able to say with full assurance: " Comiskey is wrong and I am right" but the truth is his statement has left me once again deeply in doubt and questioning myself. The question being: "Maybe, I am mistaken and have not done enough to bring about the necessary changes needed in my life." Maybe I am resisting God. Maybe men like me are wasting their time in the Outer Courts and when the King finally arrives he will not bother to come and get us and bring us into the inner courts where we long to belong and dwell. In one fell swoop, Comiskey has thrown me into a whirlwind of self-doubt and angst. Here I was, believing intently that as long as I remained celibate I would be pleasing God and garnering his approval. Could it be? I just don't know anymore! And of course, their is no one to talk to in the Church about this because most every body who struggles with same sex attraction is either (a) deep in the closet afraid to come out and allow themselves to be identified,( b) "Hetero-acting" and playing house or (c) in complete denial about their true feelings and sexual desires. Me siento tan miserablemente solo..."I feel so miserably lonely." This loneliness is what brings me face to face with my greatest fear.
I am deathly afraid of being alone. Living alone. Dying alone.
I'm not referring to solitude or anything of that sort. I am referring to the physical state of being without companionship. Henri Nouwen, a gay-celibate priest and writer had this to say concerning this basic human need: “Your body needs to be held and to hold, to be touched and to touch. None of these needs is to be despised, denied, or repressed. But you have to keep searching for your body's deeper need, the need for genuine love. Every time you are able to go beyond the body's superficial desires for love, you are bringing your body home and moving toward integration and unity.” I am deathly afraid that I will have to endure the rest of my days without a sense of true belonging, without community, and worse of all, a life devoid of intimate touch and affection.
Life sometimes feels more like a prison sentence rather than a journey or adventure meant to be lived with joyful expectation. This pursuit of happiness etched into our modern-day consciousness sometimes seems insurmountable. Rats in a labyrinth. Some get the cheese at the end of the line and others become lost in the myriad maze and passageways and never reach their desired outcome.
Gay men, such as myself, who carry within them a spark of desire and longing to know and be known by the Maker of the Universe, find themselves more often than not having to wrestle with the teachings and traditions of men while constantly having to assert their worth before the ruling majority, who along with traitors such as Comiskey will time and time again banish crooked men such as myself to the confines of the Outer Courts.
In all this, hope is the greatest weapon in my arsenal at the moment. Hope that He will find me where I am and take me in deeper and closer into freedom and wholeness. I love it when the Psalmist utters: "God sets the lonely in families, he leads forth the prisoners with singing; but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land." (Psalm 68:6). It gives me hope to read such verses. I am not alone, after all. Or am I?
Disclaimer: I'm still processing my emotions and feelings at hearing Andy Comiskey speak so please excuse me for calling him a "traitor". It's my woundedness speaking at the present moment. Please bear with me.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
REPOST: September 2009
Tuesday night threw me for a loop, to say the least. I've had two days to process through my feelings and emotions and I'm still reverberating with slight tremors of sadness. It creeps up on me without notice and I find myself sighing deeply, catching my breath and fighting back the tears that want to rush to the surface. I know I have to let it out and I am due a long soulful cry but at the moment I have other pressing needs vying for my attention. Adulthood and all the responsibilities that come with it make it difficult at times to just stop and give in to the self-care regimen required for healthy and optimum life experiences. You have to believe me when I tell you that I desperately want what is good for me. I yearn for all those things imaginable and inherent in all men to be happy and at peace.
Right about now, I long for the days when my Church played long worship sets on Sunday mornings, which usually consisted of forty-five minutes or more of live music. It was enough time for me to engage the divine within me and allow for the emotions held at bay deep inside to come cascading to the surface in the sweetest release of tears; pure manifestations of longing and intimacy. Spirit lovingly embracing my brokenness. Soothing me. Calming the tempests while stirring this heart of passion. Enough time for a good cry before the throne of grace, which always left me feeling lighter, calmer, full of warmth and at peace. Yet part of growing up, I guess, is leaving behind childish things and finding new ways to deal with these bottled up emotions. I am being taught to seek the answers to my emotions, spirit, and soul in contemplative silence. I am trying my best to do just that. I desperately want to fit in and stand on common ground and equal footing with my brothers and sisters. So I am working hard to learn and center myself and seek God in stillness. Honestly, I feel like a circle trying to take the shape of a square. Hasn't this always been the case with me? Always feeling like I never belong; whether in church or out in the streets. In a community where emotional and spiritual health is the road to travel and where many seem to be well on their way to achieving the balance and equilibrium I desperately seek and envy in others; I fall short time and time again. My attempts at contemplative silence end up being misinterpreted as gloomy and sulky depression. A silent "me" makes for an uncomfortable and uneasy exchange in any gathering. May it never be said I was one to consciously dominate or one prone to call attention to myself unless it was called for. I love to be the center of attention, I do, but the need to fit in and belong easily overwrites any tendency at being in the limelight. I'm your man if you ever need entertainment and good laughs at parties and social gatherings but when it comes to church and stuff of that nature I'd much rather let someone else take the lead and shine.
Comiskey's comment about men such as myself who call themselves "Gay-Celibates" as being false and and without merit has left me inconsolable. I so want to be able to say with full assurance: " Comiskey is wrong and I am right" but the truth is his statement has left me once again deeply in doubt and questioning myself. The question being: "Maybe, I am mistaken and have not done enough to bring about the necessary changes needed in my life." Maybe I am resisting God. Maybe men like me are wasting their time in the Outer Courts and when the King finally arrives he will not bother to come and get us and bring us into the inner courts where we long to belong and dwell. In one fell swoop, Comiskey has thrown me into a whirlwind of self-doubt and angst. Here I was, believing intently that as long as I remained celibate I would be pleasing God and garnering his approval. Could it be? I just don't know anymore! And of course, their is no one to talk to in the Church about this because most every body who struggles with same sex attraction is either (a) deep in the closet afraid to come out and allow themselves to be identified,( b) "Hetero-acting" and playing house or (c) in complete denial about their true feelings and sexual desires. Me siento tan miserablemente solo..."I feel so miserably lonely." This loneliness is what brings me face to face with my greatest fear.
I am deathly afraid of being alone. Living alone. Dying alone.
I'm not referring to solitude or anything of that sort. I am referring to the physical state of being without companionship. Henri Nouwen, a gay-celibate priest and writer had this to say concerning this basic human need: “Your body needs to be held and to hold, to be touched and to touch. None of these needs is to be despised, denied, or repressed. But you have to keep searching for your body's deeper need, the need for genuine love. Every time you are able to go beyond the body's superficial desires for love, you are bringing your body home and moving toward integration and unity.” I am deathly afraid that I will have to endure the rest of my days without a sense of true belonging, without community, and worse of all, a life devoid of intimate touch and affection.
Life sometimes feels more like a prison sentence rather than a journey or adventure meant to be lived with joyful expectation. This pursuit of happiness etched into our modern-day consciousness sometimes seems insurmountable. Rats in a labyrinth. Some get the cheese at the end of the line and others become lost in the myriad maze and passageways and never reach their desired outcome.
Gay men, such as myself, who carry within them a spark of desire and longing to know and be known by the Maker of the Universe, find themselves more often than not having to wrestle with the teachings and traditions of men while constantly having to assert their worth before the ruling majority, who along with traitors such as Comiskey will time and time again banish crooked men such as myself to the confines of the Outer Courts.
In all this, hope is the greatest weapon in my arsenal at the moment. Hope that He will find me where I am and take me in deeper and closer into freedom and wholeness. I love it when the Psalmist utters: "God sets the lonely in families, he leads forth the prisoners with singing; but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land." (Psalm 68:6). It gives me hope to read such verses. I am not alone, after all. Or am I?
Disclaimer: I'm still processing my emotions and feelings at hearing Andy Comiskey speak so please excuse me for calling him a "traitor". It's my woundedness speaking at the present moment. Please bear with me.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
That Serpent is a Liar!
Two weeks ago under mounting pressure I finally submitted my resignation letter for the post I lovingly and proudly held for the last three years. My days as Trainer/Homefinder are behind me now but I must confess the way things ended has left a bitter taste in my mouth and my heart cries out to God for justice to be done.
I have left behind great friends and co-workers; individuals whom I will carry close to my heart for years to come. I truly loved working at the Coalition for Hispanic Family Services and will miss many wonderful things about the place but I finally had to put distance between myself and a boss who was increasingly becoming impossible to work for. I swear to you, it seemed to me, she was out to literally destroy me. I sit here and ponder why another human being would treat someone as Ms. Mildred Gonzalez treated me. A "job well done" every once in awhile goes a very long way with me but she simply refused to do so and in the end I grew tired and felt defeated at every turn by her snarls, judgmental stares, self-righteous posturing, and behind-the-scenes investigations hoping to catch me doing something inappropriate. I had been forewarned she was looking for any reason to fire me.
Believe me, I am not sharing all this to malign her character but simply to try and make sense of it all. I have wrestled with all these questions and complaints about the woman all alone just because I was afraid of coming across as what I myself believed she was being towards me-judgmental, critical, and completely unfair. Sadly, I do not have a crystal ball and I cannot tell what the outcome of things will be with any degree of certainty. I fall short of understanding what is inside another person's heart and have to constantly keep bringing all my questions back to God in the hope He will allow me to sort things out correctly and gain better and clearer understanding as to why things are the way they appear. What appears is not always what is and it is with this knowledge of man's fallen nature that I try to make sense of it all.
These are the facts as I perceive them: I worked my butt off for my employer and in the end I was treated unjustly and my character and job performance maligned. The latter because Mildred Gonzalez believed the worst about me. I can only share with you what I was told by others since Mildred never came to me personally and never dealt with me directly. She was always unapproachable and out of reach. According to what I was told by Diego Valdez, Assistant Director to the program I worked for, Mildred had it out for me. She believed because I wore all-white during the month of August that I practiced a form of witchcraft known in the Latino community as "Santeria". She would have none of it and therefore repudiated me because of what she believed I practiced. Please understand, Mildred professes to be a christian who adheres to the old-time religion of Pentecostalism. She will only wear dresses because she has been taught that anything contrary is ungodly and therefore not pleasing to God. I am sure she adheres to many other practices familiar to the Pentecostal way of life and I better than anyone else know about since I was a die-hard Pentecostal myself during the days of my youth. I no longer practice many of their teachings because I found no room for grace and everything seems to be performance-based, not to mention superficial. No offense to anyone who practices Pentecostalism or "holiness" as some have termed it but to me it falls short of the abundant life Jesus died for us to have and enjoy. Too many "Don't" rules to abide by and very little appreciation of brokenness is all I ever found there.
All along I thought Mildred's mistreatment of me had to do with the fact I was an outspoken Gay man who believed himself to be born-again and therefore a devoted follower of Jesus. Let me set the record straight here...I do not practice (and never will) the Santeria religion. Santeria goes against the very things I believe in and to me personally is a worship to demons; something I do my best to steer clear of. I have enough demons to wrestle and fight against. The last thing I need is to join them in their pledge to destroy me. In my life there is good and evil and both forces are in constant tension within and without. Call me medieval if you will but I believe in what the Bible has to say about such matters and that being the case I know I have an enemy who is out to rob, kill, and destroy me. If only he could! Thankfully, I take greater stock and refuge in the good, the power of God in me that delivers me from all evil.
If Mildred would have taken the time to ask me, I would have gladly told her the truth: I wear white during the month of August because of a personal vow I made to God to do so as a visual and symbolic gesture of thanks and acknowledgment concerning the purifying and on-going life-long process of sanctification in my life. The act of wearing white is something I hope to continue to do every year in August as long as I possibly am able to. It brings me much joy to do so even if it can be challenging at times. Trying wearing only white for thirty days and you will know what I mean. Dirt finds you anywhere you go!
Long story short...I was shown the door last Friday...a week before my scheduled last day. You should have seen the smirk on her face as I sat there dumbfounded, indignant, and tears streaming down my face. I was so angry but powerless to do anything about what was transpiring. Even worse, Diego had betrayed my confidence and duped me into thinking he was a friend only to turn around and sell me out. He gave Mildred an email I had written earlier that day where I stated in part how I sincerely felt I was being forced out and therefore had no choice but to resign. Three years of service and dedication overturned in one hour by a meeting where Mildred and her benefactor, joined forces and justified dismissing me right on the spot.
It has been a week since I left the Coalition and not a day goes by I don't think of what I could have done differently. I should have confronted Mildred much sooner. Maybe if I had volunteered an explanation as to why I did what I was doing she would relax a bit and not be so against me. Many other questions and scenarios are running through my head at the moment and I know I will have to revisit many things before moving on to what God has in store for me. My three years at the Coalition were full of life lessons and experiences which if I allow can mold me into a better person. This is why I am resisting the temptation to become bitter and be angry. I must see everything as working for my good! God is shaping me and molding me into the man I was created to become; the man the great cloud of witnesses cheers on. The man who is little by little becoming a reflection the one he is attentively gazing on. I am not ashamed to speak of my love and I know He is not ashamed of me either.
Well, there is much more to share and wrestle with here but I will end it with an open invitation to anyone reading this who may have any questions, please feel free to ask and I will do my best to answer them here in this safe space I have created for myself and others to continue to be transparent and honest. Here I hope and pray no one will find the judgments and criticism found elsewhere, which make us want to run away and hide. I declare this blog to be a well watered garden where crooked things come find acceptance and have room enough to grow.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
I have left behind great friends and co-workers; individuals whom I will carry close to my heart for years to come. I truly loved working at the Coalition for Hispanic Family Services and will miss many wonderful things about the place but I finally had to put distance between myself and a boss who was increasingly becoming impossible to work for. I swear to you, it seemed to me, she was out to literally destroy me. I sit here and ponder why another human being would treat someone as Ms. Mildred Gonzalez treated me. A "job well done" every once in awhile goes a very long way with me but she simply refused to do so and in the end I grew tired and felt defeated at every turn by her snarls, judgmental stares, self-righteous posturing, and behind-the-scenes investigations hoping to catch me doing something inappropriate. I had been forewarned she was looking for any reason to fire me.
Believe me, I am not sharing all this to malign her character but simply to try and make sense of it all. I have wrestled with all these questions and complaints about the woman all alone just because I was afraid of coming across as what I myself believed she was being towards me-judgmental, critical, and completely unfair. Sadly, I do not have a crystal ball and I cannot tell what the outcome of things will be with any degree of certainty. I fall short of understanding what is inside another person's heart and have to constantly keep bringing all my questions back to God in the hope He will allow me to sort things out correctly and gain better and clearer understanding as to why things are the way they appear. What appears is not always what is and it is with this knowledge of man's fallen nature that I try to make sense of it all.
These are the facts as I perceive them: I worked my butt off for my employer and in the end I was treated unjustly and my character and job performance maligned. The latter because Mildred Gonzalez believed the worst about me. I can only share with you what I was told by others since Mildred never came to me personally and never dealt with me directly. She was always unapproachable and out of reach. According to what I was told by Diego Valdez, Assistant Director to the program I worked for, Mildred had it out for me. She believed because I wore all-white during the month of August that I practiced a form of witchcraft known in the Latino community as "Santeria". She would have none of it and therefore repudiated me because of what she believed I practiced. Please understand, Mildred professes to be a christian who adheres to the old-time religion of Pentecostalism. She will only wear dresses because she has been taught that anything contrary is ungodly and therefore not pleasing to God. I am sure she adheres to many other practices familiar to the Pentecostal way of life and I better than anyone else know about since I was a die-hard Pentecostal myself during the days of my youth. I no longer practice many of their teachings because I found no room for grace and everything seems to be performance-based, not to mention superficial. No offense to anyone who practices Pentecostalism or "holiness" as some have termed it but to me it falls short of the abundant life Jesus died for us to have and enjoy. Too many "Don't" rules to abide by and very little appreciation of brokenness is all I ever found there.
All along I thought Mildred's mistreatment of me had to do with the fact I was an outspoken Gay man who believed himself to be born-again and therefore a devoted follower of Jesus. Let me set the record straight here...I do not practice (and never will) the Santeria religion. Santeria goes against the very things I believe in and to me personally is a worship to demons; something I do my best to steer clear of. I have enough demons to wrestle and fight against. The last thing I need is to join them in their pledge to destroy me. In my life there is good and evil and both forces are in constant tension within and without. Call me medieval if you will but I believe in what the Bible has to say about such matters and that being the case I know I have an enemy who is out to rob, kill, and destroy me. If only he could! Thankfully, I take greater stock and refuge in the good, the power of God in me that delivers me from all evil.
If Mildred would have taken the time to ask me, I would have gladly told her the truth: I wear white during the month of August because of a personal vow I made to God to do so as a visual and symbolic gesture of thanks and acknowledgment concerning the purifying and on-going life-long process of sanctification in my life. The act of wearing white is something I hope to continue to do every year in August as long as I possibly am able to. It brings me much joy to do so even if it can be challenging at times. Trying wearing only white for thirty days and you will know what I mean. Dirt finds you anywhere you go!
Long story short...I was shown the door last Friday...a week before my scheduled last day. You should have seen the smirk on her face as I sat there dumbfounded, indignant, and tears streaming down my face. I was so angry but powerless to do anything about what was transpiring. Even worse, Diego had betrayed my confidence and duped me into thinking he was a friend only to turn around and sell me out. He gave Mildred an email I had written earlier that day where I stated in part how I sincerely felt I was being forced out and therefore had no choice but to resign. Three years of service and dedication overturned in one hour by a meeting where Mildred and her benefactor, joined forces and justified dismissing me right on the spot.
It has been a week since I left the Coalition and not a day goes by I don't think of what I could have done differently. I should have confronted Mildred much sooner. Maybe if I had volunteered an explanation as to why I did what I was doing she would relax a bit and not be so against me. Many other questions and scenarios are running through my head at the moment and I know I will have to revisit many things before moving on to what God has in store for me. My three years at the Coalition were full of life lessons and experiences which if I allow can mold me into a better person. This is why I am resisting the temptation to become bitter and be angry. I must see everything as working for my good! God is shaping me and molding me into the man I was created to become; the man the great cloud of witnesses cheers on. The man who is little by little becoming a reflection the one he is attentively gazing on. I am not ashamed to speak of my love and I know He is not ashamed of me either.
Well, there is much more to share and wrestle with here but I will end it with an open invitation to anyone reading this who may have any questions, please feel free to ask and I will do my best to answer them here in this safe space I have created for myself and others to continue to be transparent and honest. Here I hope and pray no one will find the judgments and criticism found elsewhere, which make us want to run away and hide. I declare this blog to be a well watered garden where crooked things come find acceptance and have room enough to grow.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Standing Still and Waiting It Out
I was ready for a show down on Monday. Hardly slept the night before going through all the different scenarios of what I would say and do. Turns out I didn't have to lift a finger or utter a word. Nothing happened. No one said a word to me. No one called me into a meeting. This is the second time in the last month or so where I was expecting to be spoken to and finally have the opportunity to bear my grievances. Makes me wonder what is going on. Almost feels like I am imagining half the stuff I hear and expect to happen. I guess better to have imagined it than to actually have it happen. Nonetheless, I am moving on for my sake. Can't take the high level of anxiety and pressure I am experiencing lately. Definitely not fun going to work anymore. Miss those days. I hardly ever had to use the snooze button but it seems lately it is getting tapped a great deal. I just don't want to have to face all the negativity and low morale surrounding me.
My heart goes out to my fellow co-workers. I can see the heaviness on their shoulders and the worry in their eyes. The laughter has been stifled and I've seen my share of puffy eyes in the last few weeks. The sense of camaraderie and teamwork has been greatly diminished. I want desperately to be the cheerleader in their midst and lift up everyone's spirits but when you find yourself walking on eggshells and sense there is no one around you to offer you support, well, not much can get done but just get through the day. This saddens me greatly since we are already dealing with so much pain and loss and I would want nothing more but to be the breathe of encouragement and cheerfulness to those who are weighed down with life's struggles. If only she could see how laughter does make the heart glad and does not in any way cheapen or rob the workplace of getting the job done. Honestly, I believe with all my heart I did my best work when my mouth was full of joy. Now, the work still gets done but with guarded heart.
We had a "code red" yesterday which means all the managers had to come down to the third floor and stand guard as the police officers escorted the angry and volatile birth parent out of the agency. She cursed with abandon and with each "fuck", "shit" and "god-damn" the atmosphere became more uneasy and tense. I never know what to do in such situations but follow the offender's every move with my eyes and stand at attention with my arms folded- at the ready to have to restrain or step in if things get physical or violent. I kept thinking to myself how I hoped no one was wearing a tie or anything that might be pulled by the tempest stomping around the reception area. I had already predetermined in my mind to run and grab a pair of scissors in case she got her hands and started yanking away. Nothing came of the episode. The young mother simply needed to let off steam and let everyone know that deep down she truly does love her baby. No doubt. She made it clear and I even had to turn away when she at last took her son's coat in her hands and held it to her bosom, tears streaming down her face. God, this side of the veil is overflowing with so much grief and pain. Wanted to join in and wail with the young woman raising my voice and pierce the air with my lament. Yes girl, life sucks right now, especially when what you love is taken from you.
Went to an interview today and nailed it. Felt great. Crossing my fingers and hoping I get the call I long for..."Congratulations! You got the job!" It went so well that I was immediately asked to complete the second phase of the interview and provide the interviewer with references and the like. Praying I get it. Trusting God to open the door if it is meant to be. Close it tight if it is not meant to be. And give me patience to wait out whatever it is I must endure. So far God has demonstrated His blessings and covered me in favor. Thank you, Lord.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
My heart goes out to my fellow co-workers. I can see the heaviness on their shoulders and the worry in their eyes. The laughter has been stifled and I've seen my share of puffy eyes in the last few weeks. The sense of camaraderie and teamwork has been greatly diminished. I want desperately to be the cheerleader in their midst and lift up everyone's spirits but when you find yourself walking on eggshells and sense there is no one around you to offer you support, well, not much can get done but just get through the day. This saddens me greatly since we are already dealing with so much pain and loss and I would want nothing more but to be the breathe of encouragement and cheerfulness to those who are weighed down with life's struggles. If only she could see how laughter does make the heart glad and does not in any way cheapen or rob the workplace of getting the job done. Honestly, I believe with all my heart I did my best work when my mouth was full of joy. Now, the work still gets done but with guarded heart.
We had a "code red" yesterday which means all the managers had to come down to the third floor and stand guard as the police officers escorted the angry and volatile birth parent out of the agency. She cursed with abandon and with each "fuck", "shit" and "god-damn" the atmosphere became more uneasy and tense. I never know what to do in such situations but follow the offender's every move with my eyes and stand at attention with my arms folded- at the ready to have to restrain or step in if things get physical or violent. I kept thinking to myself how I hoped no one was wearing a tie or anything that might be pulled by the tempest stomping around the reception area. I had already predetermined in my mind to run and grab a pair of scissors in case she got her hands and started yanking away. Nothing came of the episode. The young mother simply needed to let off steam and let everyone know that deep down she truly does love her baby. No doubt. She made it clear and I even had to turn away when she at last took her son's coat in her hands and held it to her bosom, tears streaming down her face. God, this side of the veil is overflowing with so much grief and pain. Wanted to join in and wail with the young woman raising my voice and pierce the air with my lament. Yes girl, life sucks right now, especially when what you love is taken from you.
Went to an interview today and nailed it. Felt great. Crossing my fingers and hoping I get the call I long for..."Congratulations! You got the job!" It went so well that I was immediately asked to complete the second phase of the interview and provide the interviewer with references and the like. Praying I get it. Trusting God to open the door if it is meant to be. Close it tight if it is not meant to be. And give me patience to wait out whatever it is I must endure. So far God has demonstrated His blessings and covered me in favor. Thank you, Lord.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Will I Bless or Curse?
If you ask me, I will honestly tell you I have lacked the drive for success in life. When faced with the choice of investing and sacrificing for the sake of earthly riches and high position, I have failed time and time again to rise to the occasion. While others raced headlong into their careers and goals of upward mobility, and worked hard to realize their dreams, I chose to take a more leisurely approach to life. I am not driven in the sense other people are. I am a type "B" kind of guy. Laid back. Casual. Faithful to deadlines only because I have to. This lack of drive has come with a price, which at times, has left me in the dust and feeling as I have lately...stuck and under-appreciated. Endeavoring to go at my own pace and accomplish whatever tasks set before me with my usual effervescence appears to not have been enough. You have to take what I am saying with a grain of salt since I'm undergoing an episode of major disappointment. I am grieving what I teach my soon-to-be foster parents as "situational loss"- losses that come unexpectedly and without warning. I'm at the precipice of what may end up being the end of three wonderful and rewarding years at my workplace.
I am starting to wonder if holding my tongue was the best thing to have done after all. Maybe I should have spoken up when I had a chance and voiced my displeasure at being treated with such disdain? I had reasoned with myself that as long as I did my job and stayed out of her way, she would leave me alone and not mistreat me, even if I had to deal with her bitter misery and foul attitude. I chalked it up as the price to pay for working under someone who has bi-polar tendencies and has her "favorites" of which I am not. "As long as you keep quiet, do your work, and stay out of her way, you will be fine" I reasoned with myself.
I realize now how this could not have been farthest from the truth. When you rub someone the wrong way as I do her, it comes down to this. In order to get rid of me she has born false witness against me and blown things out of proportion to the extent that she would have me look as someone who "falsified" records and placed children in harm's way. Completely untrue! I just pray now it will not be too late to reason with her and help her to see the outright wrong-doing of her actions. My fear is that in her blindness and unwillingness to see me and the contributions I have made to the workplace, she will get away with her plan to defame my character and smear my name.
I guess it all boils down to this for me: what's next? This has been the cry of my heart these last few weeks. Where to next? It is obvious to me, I am being uprooted (against my will) and being prepared for the next phase of my journey. I have no clear indication as to what this may be but the ground underneath me is trembling and the earth is being shifted. Change has once again come and I need to greet it with open arms.
Regardless of the outcome, my hope remains steadfast that somehow God will work it out for my good and vindicate me. I am praying that everything being planned against me in the darkness will come to the light and not prevail. I have done my best. I have worked honorably and with integrity. Albeit, imperfectly and with room to improve but to the best of my abilities. At least I can hold my head high and be proud of my accomplishments, even if she does not want to see it.
May God help me to see the good in all this and the grace to move forward. Obviously, I am not wanted there and somehow it is being used to move me along to whatever it is God has prepared for me elsewhere. I will not be discouraged (for too long, anyway). I believe with all my heart things are going to turn out just fine even if it means having to endure a bit of pain. God is faithful. He will see me through this. He has seen me through worse.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
I am starting to wonder if holding my tongue was the best thing to have done after all. Maybe I should have spoken up when I had a chance and voiced my displeasure at being treated with such disdain? I had reasoned with myself that as long as I did my job and stayed out of her way, she would leave me alone and not mistreat me, even if I had to deal with her bitter misery and foul attitude. I chalked it up as the price to pay for working under someone who has bi-polar tendencies and has her "favorites" of which I am not. "As long as you keep quiet, do your work, and stay out of her way, you will be fine" I reasoned with myself.
I realize now how this could not have been farthest from the truth. When you rub someone the wrong way as I do her, it comes down to this. In order to get rid of me she has born false witness against me and blown things out of proportion to the extent that she would have me look as someone who "falsified" records and placed children in harm's way. Completely untrue! I just pray now it will not be too late to reason with her and help her to see the outright wrong-doing of her actions. My fear is that in her blindness and unwillingness to see me and the contributions I have made to the workplace, she will get away with her plan to defame my character and smear my name.
I guess it all boils down to this for me: what's next? This has been the cry of my heart these last few weeks. Where to next? It is obvious to me, I am being uprooted (against my will) and being prepared for the next phase of my journey. I have no clear indication as to what this may be but the ground underneath me is trembling and the earth is being shifted. Change has once again come and I need to greet it with open arms.
Regardless of the outcome, my hope remains steadfast that somehow God will work it out for my good and vindicate me. I am praying that everything being planned against me in the darkness will come to the light and not prevail. I have done my best. I have worked honorably and with integrity. Albeit, imperfectly and with room to improve but to the best of my abilities. At least I can hold my head high and be proud of my accomplishments, even if she does not want to see it.
May God help me to see the good in all this and the grace to move forward. Obviously, I am not wanted there and somehow it is being used to move me along to whatever it is God has prepared for me elsewhere. I will not be discouraged (for too long, anyway). I believe with all my heart things are going to turn out just fine even if it means having to endure a bit of pain. God is faithful. He will see me through this. He has seen me through worse.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
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