It all started with the idea of how cool it would be for dad to have access to the world wide web. I was in the process of purchasing a new Macintosh laptop and thought to myself who else but my dad would benefit from inheriting my slow as molasses ibook4. He wouldn't need it for much anyway. My sister Cindy and I knew already how much he enjoyed playing games on the desktop computer we had jointly purchased for the family a few Christmas' ago. Out of the three: my Dad, mom, and younger sister Erika, it seemed Dad was the only one who would even bother to tinker with the clunky emachine . Or so we thought. This was not completely true since it was Erika who after going into enough porn sites allowed for a virus to infect the computer and render it useless. That's right, your eyes are not deceiving you when you read the word "porn" here. My sister who is developmentally delayed and mentally challenged since birth appears to have been cursed right along with the rest of us in that she was addicted to pornography. She had somehow learned to google words which led her to XXX sites. Cindy told me one day how she had turned on the computer and was assaulted by graphic sexual images and advertisements. We immediately thought it was dear old Dad but since the images that were left behind were of naked men, it was quickly figured out that our dear "innocent" sister Erika was busy feasting her eyes on the images of naked men. Either that or Dad had turned gay on us. Not!
Erika was confronted with this embarrassing revelation and she denied it, putting the blame on my niece. Little did Erika know that we were able to look into the computer's history and pinpoint what sites had been visited and when. Erika is not savvy enough to cover her tracks since as I mentioned to you earlier she is slow and does not function at the level of her peers. Cindy and I found it quite interesting how someone with developmental delays and challenges was still able to indulge in what we considered "adult" type activities. This just went to prove in my mind that Erika had also been sexually abused as a child. None of us had escaped the clutches of child molesters; not even the youngest of the three who had grown up with such mental challenges. I could go on and on here about this sensitive subject matter since it has touched every one in my household and caused lifelong damage and trauma. Some day I will talk about generational curses in more detail but right now I need to get back on track with what I am purposely writing about.
Looking back, I regret a thousand times over ever having passed on the ibook to my Dad. Even more so, I wish I had never opened a Facebook account for him. I should have just left him in the dark ages. I blame myself for what has transpired and I continually struggle with forgiving myself on the matter. I only wanted my father and I to enjoy more forms of communication with each other. I had imagined how fun it would be to chat and leave messages for my Dad on Facebook and vice versa. I remember being super excited about opening the account for him and introducing him to the world I had myself become engrossed in. Facebook revolutionized my life. It has single-handedly impacted my day-to-day activities and how I choose to communicate with people. Now I see how Facebook has also cursed my family and become a tool of destruction. Allow me to explain...
It started innocently enough. Little by little my Dad found others on Facebook he had not been in contact with for years. This is one of the awesome things about Facebook, how it keeps you connected with people who otherwise you might never be in touch with ever again. He found childhood acquaintances through facebook. He was able to befriend old neighbors from his hometown, as well as long lost relatives in Puerto Rico. He had his close family too (Cindy and I) in his growing list of friends. I was so proud of the old man for taking this medium and running with it.
Tragically, Dad also gained knowledge and access to individuals who like himself found Facebook useful for flirting. My dad being the quintessential flirt that he has always been immediately fell into looking for friendships that would feed that part of him which needed to sexually express itself. IN enters Ms. Wanda Torres. What a dreadful day that was for all of us! Wanda Torres, or "Titi" (Auntie) Wanda as I have always known and called her by was also on Facebook. Innocently enough, my dad and Wanda began to chat with one another whenever they had the chance. I didn't think much of it until I started receiving messages from Wanda. We'd been friends on Facebook for quite some time but we never bothered to exchange words with one another. You know how you just have certain people on your list but never ever have the urge or need to reach out to? Well, Titi Wanda was one of them. She was the wife of my maternal uncle who lives in the neighboring town of Massachusetts where everyone in my family has over the last two decades migrated to. My parents, siblings, cousins, Aunts, Uncles, and the last remaining grandparent all live in the State of Massachusetts. They have made the western part of the state their home and everyone seems happy to live there. I was the only hold out. I tried it for a couple of months years ago and literally found myself on the verge of suicide. I kid you not. I attempted to live there yet again last year when I was undergoing my cancer recovery but that also fell through once I was healthy enough to pick up where I had left off.
So as I was saying, Wanda starts sending me these mushy sentimental messages about how much she loves me and wants to be there for me, blah, blah, blah. And then one day she sens the message which gave her and my dad away..."I love you like a mother loves her son". Huh? Mother? Loves a son? Um, thanks but I already have a mother. Anyway, this one little message coupled with other signs I was observing told me something was not quite kosher between her and my Dad. I would visit her page, as well as my Dad's page and started to find lots of messages and interactions between the two. So much so, that I remember mentioning to Cindy that I was starting to suspect there was more than just a friendship between the two. It was around this time when it was undeniably confirmed to me through some explicit correspondence between she and my Dad which I had access to. It was official: My Father was having an affair with his brother-in-law's wife!!!
As all things which are hidden in the dark, eventually become exposed to the light. The whole affair was discovered by my Uncle who had begun to have his own suspicions and started to follow my Aunt around. Sure enough Wanda and my Dad had agreed to rendezvous at the Mall and then head over to the motel. My uncle followed them and my Aunt realizing she was being followed and by whom made a quick detour to her nearby Pentecostal Church. When approached by my uncle, Wanda used the alibi that she was counseling and comforting (for sure) my poor Dad who was going through emotional distress at my recent hospitalization and recurrence of cancer. She wanted my uncle to believe she was driving my dad to see the Pastor for prayer and counseling. Yeah right!
After months of secrecy and meeting up for sexual romps at the Super 8 Motel, the truth had been discovered. My uncle immediately called my mother to tell her and my sister Cindy who had just hours before caught wind of the affair and was now on a rampage to publicly expose Wanda to her church and to the facebook community. Of course, my Dad, as is his typical approach to such matters, denied the affair from beginning to end. To this day he still denies it which comes as no surprise to me since this is the same man who took me aside one day during my youth and gave me the worst advice ever, advice he obviously lives by and gives to other men..." Never, ever, admit to sexual indiscretions or extramarital affairs, even if caught red-handed".
I was sick and hospitalized when all this imploded and blew up. I have kept silent about it until now. I have suffered alone. I have watched my mother well up with tears as she tells of the latest drama or incident relating to the affair. I have heard her say countless times how she is done and will leave my Dad but we all know after forty years of unfaithful marriage and affairs, she does not have the will-power or courage to do so. My heart breaks for her...it literally breaks for her and what she is going through, yet again. As a son I would want nothing more than to take her pain and carry it for her as I know she wishes she could do the same for me. The only advice I have been able to give her is to go see a counselor, to seek professional help because she is going through a great deal of pain right now. Sadly, she feels she can come to me and vent but I need to remain neutral in the matter. I cannot take sides. I refuse to do so. As much as I want to confront my father I know it will only make matters worse since he is in denial and refuses to admit to the truth.
I am struggling with my own emotional upheaval. Emotions I need to grapple with and bring under constant control of my Christian principles. I have to continue to forgive, even if I cannot forget. The truth is my Dad's affairs, past and present, have left me traumatized and forever affected. I attribute my life long struggle with fidelity and believing in the sanctity of marriage to this very thing: my father's countless affairs. I never had anyone model for me what it is like to be faithful to one partner and to honor one's vows. My grandfathers were guilty of it. My father definitely is guilty of it and God knows I never knew what it was like to have a monogamous relationship. I cheated on all my boyfriends and denied it to the end too. Like father, like son.
I have been advised not to write about this...to just let family skeletons hidden in the closet and go on with my life. I can't. Writing about it helps me make sense of what is going inside me. Exposing my father's sins serves me in helping to understand my own struggle with sin. I do not write to shame anyone. I may be completely wrong in thinking that when my dad finds out about this he will go on as if nothing ever happened. My family loves to pretend that the bull is not loose in the shop, even if everything around us shatters to millions of pieces. No more. I'm sincerely hoping my dad does confront me about this blog so I can call him to repentance and ask him questions he alone as my father will ever be able to answer. I want to understand him, not judge or condemn him. I'm also desirous to know what he intends to do about it all. Is he going to finally leave mom and go runaway with my Aunt? Is he going to put an end to the affair and do his best to mend his irreparably broken marriage? Will he ever see the wrong he has committed? Or will the Rivera family be doomed to keep repeating the same sins of our ancestors? God knows I may not be around long enough to break this generational curse. Then who? Who will save us and set our relationships and marriages free.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Prelude to the Sins of My Father
In the coming days I will be writing and reflecting on something that is hanging heavy on my heart. I will be openly sharing about the "sins of my Father" (literally). I just wanted to provide a quick disclaimer and make it known I love my parents with all my heart. When I expose them to the light I am not acting out of hatred, revenge, or anything in that vein; I am simply trying to make sense of how their actions to this very day still impact me and my siblings. My sisters and I are experiencing emotional upheaval and distress right now and I for one need to make peace with my raging emotions.
I can only hope and pray what I write and share is received in the spirit which it was intended. And to my Father I want to apologize ahead of time. I truly am sorry to have to put his dirty laundry out for all to see. I would not have to do so if he were willing to talk openly about what everyone in the family (and I mean everyone) has already been exposed to. He refuses to admit the truth and wants to blame everyone else but himself for the unraveling and destruction presently being unleashed due to his selfish and immoral actions. This is nothing new. As long as I can remember, my dad has been notorious for committing the act of Adultery. His unfaithfulness to y mother is legendary in my family and his inability to honor his vows of marriage already a well known fact in the Rivera family.
I have wrestled with this, whether to write about him or not, because I don't want to lose my relationship with him. Yet I realize, he himself has created this present climate of pain and betrayal. I must be true to myself and not only accept truth but embrace it. The latter part can be excruciating and if not done with caution and divine intervention I am aware it can cause destruction.
My sincere prayer is for healing, deliverance, and restoration to be the final outcome out of this painful and revealing process. I would want nothing more than to see a mighty River of Repentance come and wash away our sins. Tragically, it does not seem to be the case with my father and since he insists on making my mother believe she is imaging things, I feel it is my duty to proclaim and expose the truth.
Please pray for my family as we once again are being thrown into the pit of infidelity. My mother's heart has once again been crushed and I'm afraid if action is not taken soon, this could lead to her early demise. May it not be so. May she find the resolve to finally accomplish and follow through on what has taken forty years to be accomplished.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
I can only hope and pray what I write and share is received in the spirit which it was intended. And to my Father I want to apologize ahead of time. I truly am sorry to have to put his dirty laundry out for all to see. I would not have to do so if he were willing to talk openly about what everyone in the family (and I mean everyone) has already been exposed to. He refuses to admit the truth and wants to blame everyone else but himself for the unraveling and destruction presently being unleashed due to his selfish and immoral actions. This is nothing new. As long as I can remember, my dad has been notorious for committing the act of Adultery. His unfaithfulness to y mother is legendary in my family and his inability to honor his vows of marriage already a well known fact in the Rivera family.
I have wrestled with this, whether to write about him or not, because I don't want to lose my relationship with him. Yet I realize, he himself has created this present climate of pain and betrayal. I must be true to myself and not only accept truth but embrace it. The latter part can be excruciating and if not done with caution and divine intervention I am aware it can cause destruction.
My sincere prayer is for healing, deliverance, and restoration to be the final outcome out of this painful and revealing process. I would want nothing more than to see a mighty River of Repentance come and wash away our sins. Tragically, it does not seem to be the case with my father and since he insists on making my mother believe she is imaging things, I feel it is my duty to proclaim and expose the truth.
Please pray for my family as we once again are being thrown into the pit of infidelity. My mother's heart has once again been crushed and I'm afraid if action is not taken soon, this could lead to her early demise. May it not be so. May she find the resolve to finally accomplish and follow through on what has taken forty years to be accomplished.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Walking the fine line of Faith and Practicality
Everything in me breathes and believes in a Mighty, Mighty God who is still in the business of setting people free. There is no doubt in my mind God is more than able to heal and deliver. My God specializes in matters of life and Resurrection.
Even when I spent and wasted my earthly inheritance during my years of rebellion and depravity, a part of me still knew He was able. I'd spent my youth in His House beholding his power and being a witness to His awesome might. I was there when Zuleika's left leg miraculously before my very eyes grew out to meet her right leg and the limp she came in with would never be seen again. I was present when Mildred's body which had been riddled with tumors suddenly sprung out of bed healed and restored to perfect health. Yes, I was there also when fevers and diseases responded to the name of Jesus and fled. Hence, even when I turned my back and reneged my covenant to follow Him, I still knew better. Is it any wonder that after three and a half hard years of running away I finally came to my senses and came back home? I have not regretted it since and now live every day grateful to be back in the arms of my father. The anger and venom that once possessed me, now finally defeated. The doubts I once held as truth that he did not love me now replaced with a constant assurance that I am forever and unconditionally accepted. Heaven and salvation no longer just fire insurance but now a blessed reassurance.
Life could not be better... that is until this latest Goliath called Cancer now threatens to cut my days short.
The reoccurring tumor continues to grow exponentially and seems not to be responding to treatment or to the countless prayers coming against it. My surgeon now joined by the Urologist have tag teamed against me (it seems) and are bent on putting me under the knife. Along with the tumor they feel my colon, rectum, pelvic bone, bladder, penis and testicles must be removed also. Too much to take in and handle right now. I simply do not want to undergo such an extensive and invasive surgery which still does not guarantee me I will be able to enjoy a fraction of the independence and mobility I was until recently used to. Imagine a life confined to a bed?
Plain and simple, if the God of the Angel Armies does not intervene, I might as well prepare myself and others for my departure. Every journey has a starting point and the end for some, comes much sooner than we'd all like to accept. I'm okay with longevity on earth as well as eternity on the streets that are golden. For me, my friend, it is a win-win situation.
I know the thought of me dying will be harder for some than it will be for others since we all have varying degrees of grief and separation. Death is a process I do not want to ignore or neglect until it is too late. I want to be ready. My heart is to likewise help those around me be just as prepared. I guess that is why I am writing about it now and have begun dialogue with loved ones.
I'm not giving up by any means. I am holding in tension both my faith in a Healer as well as the possibility this may be my time to go home. This is yet to be determined which is why I hold both in my heart and hope for the best. And the best is not what I or anyone else says should be but what God who pre-destined my days says will be.
Even when I spent and wasted my earthly inheritance during my years of rebellion and depravity, a part of me still knew He was able. I'd spent my youth in His House beholding his power and being a witness to His awesome might. I was there when Zuleika's left leg miraculously before my very eyes grew out to meet her right leg and the limp she came in with would never be seen again. I was present when Mildred's body which had been riddled with tumors suddenly sprung out of bed healed and restored to perfect health. Yes, I was there also when fevers and diseases responded to the name of Jesus and fled. Hence, even when I turned my back and reneged my covenant to follow Him, I still knew better. Is it any wonder that after three and a half hard years of running away I finally came to my senses and came back home? I have not regretted it since and now live every day grateful to be back in the arms of my father. The anger and venom that once possessed me, now finally defeated. The doubts I once held as truth that he did not love me now replaced with a constant assurance that I am forever and unconditionally accepted. Heaven and salvation no longer just fire insurance but now a blessed reassurance.
Life could not be better... that is until this latest Goliath called Cancer now threatens to cut my days short.
The reoccurring tumor continues to grow exponentially and seems not to be responding to treatment or to the countless prayers coming against it. My surgeon now joined by the Urologist have tag teamed against me (it seems) and are bent on putting me under the knife. Along with the tumor they feel my colon, rectum, pelvic bone, bladder, penis and testicles must be removed also. Too much to take in and handle right now. I simply do not want to undergo such an extensive and invasive surgery which still does not guarantee me I will be able to enjoy a fraction of the independence and mobility I was until recently used to. Imagine a life confined to a bed?
Plain and simple, if the God of the Angel Armies does not intervene, I might as well prepare myself and others for my departure. Every journey has a starting point and the end for some, comes much sooner than we'd all like to accept. I'm okay with longevity on earth as well as eternity on the streets that are golden. For me, my friend, it is a win-win situation.
I know the thought of me dying will be harder for some than it will be for others since we all have varying degrees of grief and separation. Death is a process I do not want to ignore or neglect until it is too late. I want to be ready. My heart is to likewise help those around me be just as prepared. I guess that is why I am writing about it now and have begun dialogue with loved ones.
I'm not giving up by any means. I am holding in tension both my faith in a Healer as well as the possibility this may be my time to go home. This is yet to be determined which is why I hold both in my heart and hope for the best. And the best is not what I or anyone else says should be but what God who pre-destined my days says will be.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
TOP TEN THINGS I Miss Most...
TOP TEN THINGS I MISS MOST (or wish I could do again with ease)
10. Sitting. The tumor is located and protruding in such a way that sitting is no longer an option. I spend the bulk of my days in bed.
9. Using the bathroom like regular folk. I do my business in bags attached to my abdomen.
8. Taking regular showers. The process is time-consuming and tedious.
7. Wearing belts and form-fitting clothes. My fashion sense has been altered since I must now conceal the "ostomy/catheter" bags I'm attached to.
6. Going to the Movies. Since I can't sit, I can't go and watch the latest movies playing out right now.
5. Attending church. Talks are in progress how to make this one obstacle a reality again.
4. Going to work every day. Miss the daily interactions with co-workers and clients.
3. My appetite. I've lost twenty-two pounds in one month. Eating is a chore
2. Pain-Free existence. Pain is under control with heavy pain meds. Thank God.
1. My independence. Can't do much of anything without assistance.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
10. Sitting. The tumor is located and protruding in such a way that sitting is no longer an option. I spend the bulk of my days in bed.
9. Using the bathroom like regular folk. I do my business in bags attached to my abdomen.
8. Taking regular showers. The process is time-consuming and tedious.
7. Wearing belts and form-fitting clothes. My fashion sense has been altered since I must now conceal the "ostomy/catheter" bags I'm attached to.
6. Going to the Movies. Since I can't sit, I can't go and watch the latest movies playing out right now.
5. Attending church. Talks are in progress how to make this one obstacle a reality again.
4. Going to work every day. Miss the daily interactions with co-workers and clients.
3. My appetite. I've lost twenty-two pounds in one month. Eating is a chore
2. Pain-Free existence. Pain is under control with heavy pain meds. Thank God.
1. My independence. Can't do much of anything without assistance.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Tears in Bottles
Had a good cry today and I blame TLC's "Say Yes To The Dress". Confined to my bed these last few weeks, I've been watching a great deal of TV lately. One of those shows is the one mentioned here where "brides to be" shop for wedding dresses and in the process bridal drama ensues. I think I've laid eyes on at least a hundred wedding gowns watching re-runs of this show. That is when it dawned on me, while I may proudly proclaim myself as the figurative and literal Bride of Christ, I will never have the pleasure and honor of becoming a groom. Suddenly, I realized how much I've been robbed of in this life! And the tears gushed out of me like a mourner at my own funeral.
I make it a point not to dwell on the "what could have been" and do my best to live life in the moment and to the fullest. Or at least I like to think so. Yet sometimes one can't help and grieve the situational losses of life. So I had me a good cry as I faced the facts that Eunuchs are never meant to marry.
During these down times, when tears and snot are keeping me from focusing on all the blessings that have been bestowed on me regardless of what I may have been deprived of, I always bring to my remembrance the words spoken to me by James Goll (a man I deeply respect and admire in the prophetic) when he revealed to me the tender love of a Savior who collects every tear I've ever shed and collects them in bottles. The thought of Jesus gathering every tear from my eyes and placing each drop in bottles has always spoken volumes to me of how much He deeply cares and is present in my pain and suffering. Not that it makes whatever I'm feeling or going through at the moment, when the waterworks are turned on, any less bearable, at least I can find comfort in knowing someone cares. And if I know Jesus I'm sure there is great purpose in the collection of my many tears. Nothing is in vain. With Him everything has purpose. I trust Him with vindicating me of all my losses and restoring everything I have been robbed of in this lifetime. He is my Hope, my Anchor in the storm... my faithful reminder that these present and momentary troubles are nothing in comparison to the future glory yet to be revealed.
A good cry every once in awhile is a good thing. It cleanses the soul and reminds me how good it is to be alive, no matter the circumstances. Call me "thankful".
I make it a point not to dwell on the "what could have been" and do my best to live life in the moment and to the fullest. Or at least I like to think so. Yet sometimes one can't help and grieve the situational losses of life. So I had me a good cry as I faced the facts that Eunuchs are never meant to marry.
During these down times, when tears and snot are keeping me from focusing on all the blessings that have been bestowed on me regardless of what I may have been deprived of, I always bring to my remembrance the words spoken to me by James Goll (a man I deeply respect and admire in the prophetic) when he revealed to me the tender love of a Savior who collects every tear I've ever shed and collects them in bottles. The thought of Jesus gathering every tear from my eyes and placing each drop in bottles has always spoken volumes to me of how much He deeply cares and is present in my pain and suffering. Not that it makes whatever I'm feeling or going through at the moment, when the waterworks are turned on, any less bearable, at least I can find comfort in knowing someone cares. And if I know Jesus I'm sure there is great purpose in the collection of my many tears. Nothing is in vain. With Him everything has purpose. I trust Him with vindicating me of all my losses and restoring everything I have been robbed of in this lifetime. He is my Hope, my Anchor in the storm... my faithful reminder that these present and momentary troubles are nothing in comparison to the future glory yet to be revealed.
A good cry every once in awhile is a good thing. It cleanses the soul and reminds me how good it is to be alive, no matter the circumstances. Call me "thankful".
Thursday, September 16, 2010
LIFE out of BAGS is NO LIFE at ALL!
I well up with deepest emotion at the thought of having so many amazing family and friends who genuinely care and love me. I am surrounded by an overwhelming display of affection that makes me time and time again give thanks to the Almighty. It goes without saying, I truly am a blessed man!
Yesterday I met for the first time Dr. Nash; a tall handsome drink of a man (if I may be so free to express myself in such a way...and since I am the author of this material I can be as honest and transparent as I always aim to be). Dr. Nash is a six foot tall muscular man with jet black hair, perfectly white smile and dark piercing eyes. I'm afraid to think what might have been the case in running into him outside of his office just a few years ago when I would have brazenly made some sort of attempt to flirt with him, even if deep down I might have already placed him in the "out of my league" category. My flirting and pursuit of men was relentless once upon a time. Casual one-night sexual encounters was all I lived for back in the day. And it was then that I had learned how placing a man in the "out of your league" category did not make it necessarily so. How things have changed. Yes, downright amazing to me how it seems overnight this person I am describing here seems like a distant figment of my imagination; a made up fictional character. Looking back and surveying the liberal footprints I had left in the sand, as I stop to reflect and take account of my past with a naked eye, I see what devastation I wrought upon myself. I singlehandedly laid waste to my life. Like a boy playing with his ant farm I suddenly grew tired and boredom set in... I flipped over the thriving colony and killed every last one, sparing not one. I brought about the untimely end of those poor insects as I have my own life.
I know this cancer is a definite result and terrible consequence to how I lived my past. I gave myself over completely to the insatiable appetite for sex with other men. I could not get enough of it. I became enslaved by my wanton lusts and passions and as a result engaged in extremely risky and dangerous unprotected sexual acts with hundreds of strangers. I see now how I abused my body, this temple which should have been set aside as holy and sacred; instead it became a breeding ground for everything vile and abhorrent. Good and evil at war within my own members and time and time again I sided with that which offered me instant gratification. Worst of all, I had been granted the privilege of knowing truth, of being able to distinguish between right and wrong, and the absolute freedom to choose what path to take and abide in. I chose foolishly time and time again until one day the culmination of my bad choices reached their zenith, and the bowl of wrath full to the brim finally tipped over. And as it spilled to the earth I heard the angel proclaim: "Do not be deceived. God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows".
And so it seems, the grim reaper, disguised in the most handsome voice of Dr. Nash spoke to me yesterday what I have been dreading to hear... " We'll have to surgically remove the tumor and along with it we will have to remove your colon, rectum, bladder, and some bone in your pelvic area". I was devastated at hearing how extensive and invasive this procedure would be. I had only prepared myself to hear about the possibility of the colon being removed but never in a thousand years everything else he mentioned.
While at the hospital last month, I was operated on several times, two of which were for the placement of a Colostomy bag and a Suprapubic Catheter. I was sincerely hoping and praying these inconveniently placed bags would be temporary. Unfortunately, it looks as if this will be a part of me till death do I part.
I personally feel as if the quality of my life has already been altered and adversely affected. I am making the best of an uncomfortable and unsightly situation and wholeheartedly praying for a complete reversal to these procedures. Well, it appears, this may not be the case after all. This has left me frustrated and bothered. I am trying to see the good in it but all I can see or sense is what a disturbance it has been thus far. Furthermore, as much as I should be thankful to be alive I can't help but wonder what kind of a life lies ahead for me. Maintaining and looking after these two bags is time-consuming and bothersome. Believe me, I've been captive to this "life out of the bags" now for a month and it has yet to grow on me or make me feel like I have a handle on things.
Folks, I no longer ask for just healing. I am going to require a miracle. This cancer like all cancers has swept in like an invading army and I am in desperate need of unrelenting mercy in order to uproot it. I feel like I am being judged and well I should since judgment must begin with the House of God but judgment without mercy is nothing more than vengeful wrath. And this is where I deviate in my thinking from those who would paint the maker of the Universe as such. God is Love. Pure and unadulterated love. My God is also my Savior and Friend whom I can confidently and boldly approach in my time of need. He is the God who Sees and Acts on the behalf of those He loves and has made covenant with. Granted, I have broken my covenant many times. I have provoked him and who knows what else to deserve the worst punishment BUT He is Faithful, even in the midst of my unfaithfulness. I am loved with an everlasting love that burns with jealousy and holy passion towards me and for me.
HE is for me and not against me.
So much so that He has faithfully surrounded me with faithful representations of his love in the lives of my awesome family and friends. At times, with everything going on in my life, I feel like the paralyzed man whose friends upon hearing that Jesus was inside and seeing the only way to get their buddy to Jesus was to rip open a hole in the roof and lower the sick man before the Healer's feet. I am confident this very scenario is being played out in my life and healing miracles will soon be mine to experience and declare. I have so many people praying and believing for me. I feel completely covered and secure by the loving prayers of those God has sent to physically demonstrate how very much He loves me.
I am believing strongly that this life will not be lived out of bags and wholeness will return to me very soon.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Yesterday I met for the first time Dr. Nash; a tall handsome drink of a man (if I may be so free to express myself in such a way...and since I am the author of this material I can be as honest and transparent as I always aim to be). Dr. Nash is a six foot tall muscular man with jet black hair, perfectly white smile and dark piercing eyes. I'm afraid to think what might have been the case in running into him outside of his office just a few years ago when I would have brazenly made some sort of attempt to flirt with him, even if deep down I might have already placed him in the "out of my league" category. My flirting and pursuit of men was relentless once upon a time. Casual one-night sexual encounters was all I lived for back in the day. And it was then that I had learned how placing a man in the "out of your league" category did not make it necessarily so. How things have changed. Yes, downright amazing to me how it seems overnight this person I am describing here seems like a distant figment of my imagination; a made up fictional character. Looking back and surveying the liberal footprints I had left in the sand, as I stop to reflect and take account of my past with a naked eye, I see what devastation I wrought upon myself. I singlehandedly laid waste to my life. Like a boy playing with his ant farm I suddenly grew tired and boredom set in... I flipped over the thriving colony and killed every last one, sparing not one. I brought about the untimely end of those poor insects as I have my own life.
I know this cancer is a definite result and terrible consequence to how I lived my past. I gave myself over completely to the insatiable appetite for sex with other men. I could not get enough of it. I became enslaved by my wanton lusts and passions and as a result engaged in extremely risky and dangerous unprotected sexual acts with hundreds of strangers. I see now how I abused my body, this temple which should have been set aside as holy and sacred; instead it became a breeding ground for everything vile and abhorrent. Good and evil at war within my own members and time and time again I sided with that which offered me instant gratification. Worst of all, I had been granted the privilege of knowing truth, of being able to distinguish between right and wrong, and the absolute freedom to choose what path to take and abide in. I chose foolishly time and time again until one day the culmination of my bad choices reached their zenith, and the bowl of wrath full to the brim finally tipped over. And as it spilled to the earth I heard the angel proclaim: "Do not be deceived. God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows".
And so it seems, the grim reaper, disguised in the most handsome voice of Dr. Nash spoke to me yesterday what I have been dreading to hear... " We'll have to surgically remove the tumor and along with it we will have to remove your colon, rectum, bladder, and some bone in your pelvic area". I was devastated at hearing how extensive and invasive this procedure would be. I had only prepared myself to hear about the possibility of the colon being removed but never in a thousand years everything else he mentioned.
While at the hospital last month, I was operated on several times, two of which were for the placement of a Colostomy bag and a Suprapubic Catheter. I was sincerely hoping and praying these inconveniently placed bags would be temporary. Unfortunately, it looks as if this will be a part of me till death do I part.
I personally feel as if the quality of my life has already been altered and adversely affected. I am making the best of an uncomfortable and unsightly situation and wholeheartedly praying for a complete reversal to these procedures. Well, it appears, this may not be the case after all. This has left me frustrated and bothered. I am trying to see the good in it but all I can see or sense is what a disturbance it has been thus far. Furthermore, as much as I should be thankful to be alive I can't help but wonder what kind of a life lies ahead for me. Maintaining and looking after these two bags is time-consuming and bothersome. Believe me, I've been captive to this "life out of the bags" now for a month and it has yet to grow on me or make me feel like I have a handle on things.
Folks, I no longer ask for just healing. I am going to require a miracle. This cancer like all cancers has swept in like an invading army and I am in desperate need of unrelenting mercy in order to uproot it. I feel like I am being judged and well I should since judgment must begin with the House of God but judgment without mercy is nothing more than vengeful wrath. And this is where I deviate in my thinking from those who would paint the maker of the Universe as such. God is Love. Pure and unadulterated love. My God is also my Savior and Friend whom I can confidently and boldly approach in my time of need. He is the God who Sees and Acts on the behalf of those He loves and has made covenant with. Granted, I have broken my covenant many times. I have provoked him and who knows what else to deserve the worst punishment BUT He is Faithful, even in the midst of my unfaithfulness. I am loved with an everlasting love that burns with jealousy and holy passion towards me and for me.
HE is for me and not against me.
So much so that He has faithfully surrounded me with faithful representations of his love in the lives of my awesome family and friends. At times, with everything going on in my life, I feel like the paralyzed man whose friends upon hearing that Jesus was inside and seeing the only way to get their buddy to Jesus was to rip open a hole in the roof and lower the sick man before the Healer's feet. I am confident this very scenario is being played out in my life and healing miracles will soon be mine to experience and declare. I have so many people praying and believing for me. I feel completely covered and secure by the loving prayers of those God has sent to physically demonstrate how very much He loves me.
I am believing strongly that this life will not be lived out of bags and wholeness will return to me very soon.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Pain in the...
This has been a rough couple of months. As much as I want to grin and say "this too shall pass", my emotions, at times, hold my head captive under water. I'm doing what I know how to come up for air and keep moving forward.
The source of my troubles has been the persistent physical pain I find myself in. It simply refuses to go away. I've used every weapon in my arsenal to keep this pain at bay and to undo but it is stronger than anything I presently know or have in my possession to vanquish it with. Positive thoughts have not been enough. Prayer, even as ardent and commanding as I know how employ have not been enough. I am starting to doubt this pain will ever go away. Worst still, the dreadful thought that maybe this is what my life will be like for the remainder of my days seems to have burrowed its way into my mind and I am afraid has become very much at home within me.
The doctors says the pain may be due to the radiation treatment I underwent over a year ago. I honestly thought it would have been taken care of by now but the doctor says each body reacts differently to treatment. He can't give me a definite time frame but he assures me the pain will eventually subside and leave my body. I truly hope so. I'm not sure how much more I can handle before I fall into despair. Test results came back and I was told the radiation burned my urethra passage, which is why I am in such excruciating and constant pain. I went in for corrective surgery but a lump was discovered which resulted in a biopsy. The biopsy came back "atypical" and now I am scheduled for a CT Scan tomorrow.
I am battling fear and dread. The cancer may be back. I may have to undergo more treatment and surgery. This only equals more pain.
I honestly feel like I have failed in some way. My faith in God's healing touch appears to not have been enough. I can say I am healed all I want but this pain tells me differently; it mocks me and makes me question God's ability to heal me. I know I shouldn't feel this way but after so much praying, waiting, believing, trusting, and expecting the to be healed, I am left with days and nights full of throbbing pain. I suck at proclaiming " I am healed" when the pain becomes unbearable. I have never possessed the gift others have of pretending something is not there.
I am doing what I can to cope: taking pain killers, pushing myself to get up and function, putting on a brave smile and going about my day as if everything was normal, but it is far from that. Most days, I literally come home from a day at the office and throw myself on the bed exhausted and feeling every bit defeated by the pain.
People tell me to wait for it that complete healing will surely come but I have slowly given way to a spirit of unbelief and doubt. I've even stopped praying for my healing to be brutally honest and begun to ask that if this is going to be permanent, I'd rather go home sooner than later and be free of this pain. But of course we all know I have no say in the matter and I must continue to live with the pain or whatever life puts in my path, come what may.
God, is there any way out of this? Why are you testing me beyond what I feel I can endure? What are you looking for me to do or give that I haven't already? I guess these are questions I will have to sit with and ponder.
Help me to pass this test and overcome my pain. And through it all help me to keep my joy and peace of mind intact.
The source of my troubles has been the persistent physical pain I find myself in. It simply refuses to go away. I've used every weapon in my arsenal to keep this pain at bay and to undo but it is stronger than anything I presently know or have in my possession to vanquish it with. Positive thoughts have not been enough. Prayer, even as ardent and commanding as I know how employ have not been enough. I am starting to doubt this pain will ever go away. Worst still, the dreadful thought that maybe this is what my life will be like for the remainder of my days seems to have burrowed its way into my mind and I am afraid has become very much at home within me.
The doctors says the pain may be due to the radiation treatment I underwent over a year ago. I honestly thought it would have been taken care of by now but the doctor says each body reacts differently to treatment. He can't give me a definite time frame but he assures me the pain will eventually subside and leave my body. I truly hope so. I'm not sure how much more I can handle before I fall into despair. Test results came back and I was told the radiation burned my urethra passage, which is why I am in such excruciating and constant pain. I went in for corrective surgery but a lump was discovered which resulted in a biopsy. The biopsy came back "atypical" and now I am scheduled for a CT Scan tomorrow.
I am battling fear and dread. The cancer may be back. I may have to undergo more treatment and surgery. This only equals more pain.
I honestly feel like I have failed in some way. My faith in God's healing touch appears to not have been enough. I can say I am healed all I want but this pain tells me differently; it mocks me and makes me question God's ability to heal me. I know I shouldn't feel this way but after so much praying, waiting, believing, trusting, and expecting the to be healed, I am left with days and nights full of throbbing pain. I suck at proclaiming " I am healed" when the pain becomes unbearable. I have never possessed the gift others have of pretending something is not there.
I am doing what I can to cope: taking pain killers, pushing myself to get up and function, putting on a brave smile and going about my day as if everything was normal, but it is far from that. Most days, I literally come home from a day at the office and throw myself on the bed exhausted and feeling every bit defeated by the pain.
People tell me to wait for it that complete healing will surely come but I have slowly given way to a spirit of unbelief and doubt. I've even stopped praying for my healing to be brutally honest and begun to ask that if this is going to be permanent, I'd rather go home sooner than later and be free of this pain. But of course we all know I have no say in the matter and I must continue to live with the pain or whatever life puts in my path, come what may.
God, is there any way out of this? Why are you testing me beyond what I feel I can endure? What are you looking for me to do or give that I haven't already? I guess these are questions I will have to sit with and ponder.
Help me to pass this test and overcome my pain. And through it all help me to keep my joy and peace of mind intact.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
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