The blog posts on this blog are coming from Robert Yerton's writings that are sent via mail to various friends and family members. Robert does not have access to a computer to enter these posts himself.
Wednesday, November 29, 2023
Wednesday, November 22, 2023
Happy Thanksgiving!
Happy Thanksgiving
Another 100 days of incarceration have come and gone. Yahweh Father continues to bless me and be so very faithful in fufilling His covenant promises to me. Thankfully, these past 14 weeks have passed calmly by as Father continues to grow and stretch me into becoming whom he ultimately wants me to be. We should always be a work in progress, continuously moving forward.
Noticing my intense prayers at the beginning of this particular 100 day period, Yahweh Father arranged for me to move onto the quietest pod on the calmest unit on this yard. While the August, September, and October Oklahoma heat raged, and the men on my former unit absolutely sweltered, I slept underneath a continuously running 60 degree A/C vent. The men on this unit are respectful enough to not smoke on the pod and to always use earphones: the way DOC Operations/P and P say a unit is supposed to operate. By 9:05 p.m. most of the men on the pod are asleep. This is a far cry from how unit B was allowed to run itself. This unit offers the flexibility to get in my daily run and workout from practically sun up to sun down. Over the past 100 days I began my Career Technology job(s) that took me from working in the secured supply room to scrubbing toilets as a janitor to tutor to testing proctor and clerk to instructor(1). I recently have been offered three more equally specialized jobs that would utilize my Father given talents and skills. Over the past 100 days I ran 300+ miles (this pair of Nike's that I received last summer have approximately 1500 miles on them), I began eating from the vegetarian menu, and I added Amlopidine to my Lisinopril, finally bringing my blood pressure back down to healthier norms. Over the past 100 days I continued to attend AA meetings, read an ever widening variety of books, tried to authentically relate to the Millinials and GenXers(2) I live with, played a lot of Scrabble®(3) and even played some RISK®.Grimly, outside of these fences, the world continued to grind on. Over the past 100 days I had an aunt and uncle transition to the next stage of our spiritual evolution. Wildfires scorched Canada and Hawaii. The extremely arrogant, misguided, and mislocated wannabe Floridian, Oklahoma Superintendent Ryan Walters, continued his uber conservative pharisetical attacks on Tulsa Public Schools as well as upon any non-WASPy group/school district with what he perceived as a liberal bent. Over the past 100 days the fallout from the MAGA/Trump years continued as the Republican led House of Representatives turned against itself and the disgraced, former, twice impeached President was charged with 97 federal indictments. Over the past 100 days earthquakes affected many non-Christian nations. A new strain of Covid reared its ugly head, including on this yard. Strange summer floods washed through usually dry spaces and places. Unionized employees took up opposition stances against corporate greed, bringing some industries to an absolute stand still. Over the past 100 days Vladamir Putin continued his tyranny by not only killing innocent Ukrainians, but by arranging more assassinations of those of his own countrymen who dared to speak out against him, like the Wagoner mercenary leader Yevgeny Prigozhin. Hamas kidnapped, brutally and inhumanely attacked, raped, disemboweled, and beheaded hundreds of Israelites causing delays to an already tentative Mid-East peace process and the Abraham Accords. Hamas' terrorism lead to thousands of unnecessary Palestinian deaths and Palestinian infrastructure being leveled as Israel justly sought to destroy the root of this terrorist organization. It was a rough and grim 100 day span on the outside these fences.
Over the past 100 days I have blogged quite a bit more than usual. To prepare for this 100 day reflection I reviewed what I have written of late, reflected over the books that I have read over the summer, and mentally replayed the podcasts I have listened to since day 4000. As I prepared for this reflection I realized that one of the tactics I have used to not only survive, but thrive, over the past 4100 days (but even more specifically the past 1400 days to include my 3-1-2020 exile from Crabtree, Covid Lockdowns, and the horribly destructive anti-christian MAGA/Trump uprisings) is by employing the concept of rugged flexibility.
Newly minted, the phrase rugged flexibility is a term coined by Brad Stalberg in his recent book "Master of Change: How to Excel when Everything is Changing Including You". Brad Stalberg encourages that when life is less than ideal, a more practical expectation to have is a return to allostasis, rather than a return to homoeostasis. Trying to achieve homeostasis, or returning to the same conditions prior to a change, is often futile and never achievable, leaving many people sad, depressed, and unable/unwilling to move on or to find new meaning. Having an allostasis mindset allows one, allows me, to be stable through change. Having an allostasis mindset allows me to swap out the planks. Having an allostasis mindset allows me to more easily deconstruct and reconstruct as new events have happened in my life. Allostasis hails from a Buddhist principle that says, "You can go to pieces without falling apart."
To go to pieces without falling apart, or exhibiting rugged flexibility, is achieved by being willing to diversify your identity, to manage your expectations, and to understand that life is never going "back to normal". At its core allostasis stands juxtaposed to homeostasis in that the basic understanding is that after a period of disorder, or chaos, that life will essential be REordered. If you have the expectation that REorder is coming, then you can use it for growth rather than stagnation.
1. Homeostasis = order>>disorder>>return to order : x>>y>>return to x
2. Allostasis = order >>disorder>>REorder: x>>y>>z
One of the ways Stalberg says to exhibit rugged flexibility is to diversify your sense of identity. Having a fluid sense of self is like water: it can evolve over time, it can work around obstacles, it can go over and through things that get in its way. This turn of phrase reminds me of the lessons Paul learned, and expressed, when he said in his first letter to the Corinthian church that, "Though I am free and belong to no one, I have made myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible. To the Jews I became a like a Jew, to win the the Jews. To those under the law I became like one under the law so as to win those under the law. To those not having the law I became like one not having the law, so as to win those not having the law. To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some. I do all of this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings." Paul was a Christian chimera. After his conversion he choose to be an example of grace and love to those he met along his new journey, even during his multiple incarcerations. Being flexible in my ability to listen and interact with other incarcerates, to understand and empathize with their past pains, people, and problems that resulted in our crossed paths is one way way that Yahweh Father has provoked me into adjusting my own boundaries and to swap out planks.
Yearning to diversify your identity must happen in a balanced way. The difference between a flowing stream of water that is able to twist and turn yet keep on moving forward and a chaotic puddle of water that just spreads, stagnates, and evaporates is having a defined boundary. Unlike some parents who cowardly refuse to limit their children's indulgences and set boundaries, just wanting to "be their friend", Father will parent and Father will set boundaries. During the Halloween season that just passed I became aware of the popularly trending #SwitchWitch. Using the switch witch as a scapegoat is a convenient way for parents with no spine to cowardly confiscate their spoiled children's candy, rather than to set a boundary up front, or to just simply say, "no more."(4) It can be hard to disciple a new believer with the word "no", but it is often necessary. The Apostle Paul understood the necessity of trying to meet others at the point of their hurts, but knew where his boundaries were as well. The longer I have remained incarcerated I have had to redefine my boundaries, pushing aside personal preferences in favor of doing what Father stretches me into doing.
Omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent, our Father is the ultimate #SwitchWitch. When we, like the apostle Paul, are willing to diversify our identity while still staying within those boundaries Father has set then He WILL switch out our set backs for set ups, he WILL switch out our oppositions for opportunities, he WILL switch out our breakdowns for break throughs, he WILL switch out our tribulations for triumphs, he WILL switch out our addictions for adorations, he WILL switch out our heartaches for heart swells, he WILL switch out our garbage for grace. He will help us switch out our rotting planks for ones that do not leak. He will switch out our stiff necked rigidity(5) to ensure that we remain ruggedly flexible.
Uprooting old dogmas and managing expectations is a second way that Stalberg writes about as a way to remain ruggedly flexible. This is especially true when you experience trauma, or in my case, experience a change in lifestyle that has taken SO long to correct itself that the changed lifestyle is now ingrained as the new normal. When I reflect about my new normal, a normal that could last up to 2105 more days (though I believe it will be considerably shorter) I also have to take into consideration the fact that I am biologically growing older. I concurrently struggle with managing the expectations of just plain physically aging(6), beyond the struggle of being incarcerated, and figuring out how to distinguish and reconcile my feelings about both individually and collectively. I also struggle with how to productively and beneficially merge the two concepts rather than placing them into juxtaposition. I wish that there were a way to speed up my remaining time of incarceration but slow down the ravages of time on my person.
Reflecting over the past 100 days, one of the more memorable pithy saying I picked up from Global Leadership Conference (#GLS23) in August was to "chew your drinks and drink your food". This saying serves as a reminder to me to slow down and manage my expectations because being present and intentional is the only way to live a truly rich and full life, even while incarcerated. In a more practical way it serves as a reminder to actually slow down at meal time...a behavior I will need to relearn before it is time to return to the outside world. Two of the simply joys I am focusing being "present" for currently to help manage my expectations are so basic that people living on the outside of these fences may not even think about not being able to enjoy them. Living on unit D allows for the special perk of a 4:45 am walk across the yard to breakfast followed by a 6:00 am walk across the yard to school each morning. These two early morning strolls in the dark allow me to see stars. Not just an occasional star here or there, but entire constellations. Prior to moving onto this unit it had been eleven years since seeing stars. Due to the abundance of extremely bright perimeter lights of the medium yards I had been living on it had been rare to see even a single star the past eleven years. Another joy I am able to indulge in right now is watching the green leaves of summer burst into their autumnal beauty all around me. For the past 4100 days I have either lived out in the arid west surrounded by hay fields, stuck indoors during covid lockdowns, or trapped behind thirty foot tall pink granite walls. This fall is the first time I have seen trees transform into their autumn brilliance in over eleven years.
Practically speaking, Stalberg writes that the third way to maintain rugged flexibility is to understand that life is never going "back to normal". Stalberg indicates that it is ridiculousness to think that it will. I must continue to trust my future to Father, just like I would have been doing even if this incarceration had never occurred. So, since life is never going "back to normal", back to my pre-09-01-2012 life, or back my pre-04-22-2010-run-away-son life, or back to my pre-10-21-2009-Myrtha-Mikle-weaponized-false-accusation life(7), I have worked hard to prepare myself for my newest new normal post-incarceral release and rebuilding. I know it will be strange and scary, but absolutely no more so for me than for the victims of FOX News and MAGA indoctrination, for victims of homelessness, for victims of domestic violence, for victims of natural disasters, for victims of mass gun violence, for victims of tyrants, or for victims of terrorist whom behead and disembowel in the name their god. I am preparing myself to enter into an entirely new and mysterious future where I will continue to be wholly dependent on Father for his liberty, his peace, his protection, his provisions, and his providence
Liberty will be coming my way very soon. Since I know that I will soon be entering into a newer new normal, I make it a priority to stay current by reading, listening to podcasts, attending Crossings Church, watching select Bible classes online, as well as engaging in didactic conversations each week. I will not fall into the Millinial/GenZ entrapment of beng #delooloo. I have picked up quite a few inspirational phrases and nuggets that have helped keep me focused on a post "not-going-back-to-normal" life. Some of the more unique sayings that I have read or heard over the past 100 days that keep me inspired include:
1. We will always be met with opportunities when it is time to trust God in ways we have never trusted him before. (Marty Grubbs)(8)
2. Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing it is stupid. (Einstein)
3. The golden way is to be friends with the world and to regard the whole human family as one. (Ghandi)
4. Bring the level of your lifestyle up to where God is Rather than bringing the level of God down the your lifestyle. (Steven Furtick)
5. #feed forward is more important than #feedback
6 It's better to eat Twinkies® with your friends than to eat broccoli alone. (JAMA)(9)
7. You can stand tall without standing alone. (2023 The Marvels)
8. To run faster, run alone. To run further, run with another. (African Proverb)
9. When I let go of what I am, I become what I should be.(Lao Tzu)
As I focus more on being ruggedly flexible and content with the truth of my current reality the less frustrated I have become with my continuing incarceration. This autumn will be my 12th holiday season to be incarcerated. As the years have gone by and I have healed from my grief it has become less and less painful to not be able to truly celebrate this time of year with my family, less painful to not celebrate with those whom I used to be so close to, and less painful to not celebrate with those I used to love so dearly. It has taken a long time to make the changes necessary to allow myself to contentedly honor God for EACH new day that he has set before me, as opposed to really just celebrating the few government/commercialized days that most Americans focus on as being so special. After 11+ years of incarceration I have a greater appreciation for Father's Sabbaths. I understand why he instituted them and then demanded the worship and honor he did. More importantly, as I age, I acknowledge that his fervent expectation to be revered has transformed into my willing desire as well.
Nevertheless, making the changes necessary to allow myself to contentedly honor Father for each day that he has set before me while being incarcerated was a slow and gradual change that has happened over the past 4100 days. Eleven years ago I was so disillusioned and confused about why Father allowed lies and liars to have victory. The change in my heart, my attitude, and my soul has happened so quietly that if I do not consciously think about how differently my thought process are now, from those thought processes of 4100 days ago, I sometimes fail to even recognize the changes but they are there. However, I suspect, that if you were to set down and visit with me that you would be unaware of them, because the changes are all below the surface. These changes that have been subtly made remind me of a basic Sociology 101 postulation. The philosopher Otto Neurath, writing of the impossibility of reducing language to a set of conclusively established, nonvague elements, compared us to sailors who must rebuild their ship on the open sea, never able to dismantle the ship in dry-dock nor to reconstruct it in dry-dock out of the best materials. This happy image has served well(10) for this Day #4100 Reflection, I think, as a metaphor for the subtle, but substantial changes, that the Holy Spirit has used to transform my soul over the past 11+ years.
Kyanizing at sea is very difficult of course. A voyaging sailor cannot dismantle his ship, rebuild it from scratch, or waterproof it to make it more seaworthy. He must instead go about repairing the ship one plank at a time, removing the most rotten boards and replacing them gradually with new ones, all while the ship is still underway. Eventually the ship on which he is continuously sailing may be an entirely different one than the ship on which he left port. But this rebuilding process must be gradual and piecemeal (11). This is what has happened to me. I am still moving forward, but those planks, especially those that comprise my hull, are more reflective of Father's grace, mercy, and compassion rather than of perceived morality, judgementalism, and legalism.
Since being incarcerated has left me with more time for leisure reading than most people probably get to enjoy, I have been involved in a pseudo book club on this medium yard. I have also found some other Star Wars, Star Trek, and Marvel enthusiasts who enjoy discussing the newest books and storylines. I have followed the lead of an even more voracious, intelligent, divergent, and avid reader the past 100 days and read books that I otherwise would have passed on. The Holy Spirit has used each selection to stretch and expand my thinking. To my sheer delight we have engaged in some revealing, exploratory, and energizing conversations. We enjoy playing devil's advocate and asking one another the harder, deeper, questions. Some of the books I have read the past 100 days have been challenging (The Three Body Problem), some have riled me (The Killers of the Flower Moon), some have greatly intrigued me (Pre-Genesis and Creation Ancient Cosmology)(12) and some have really spoken to me in a way that made me eagerly want to scrape of the barnacles and swap out more planks.
When I blogged back on October 3rd about my reflections on the book "The House on the Cerulean Sea" as well as my thoughts about "The Eleven Days of Awesome of the Tulsa State Fair" I was in a lamenting mode. The messages of that particular book and the corollaries I blogged about have stayed with me and bare repeating in this 100 day reflection. Author TJ Klune writes, "The world likes to see things in black and white, as moral and immoral. But there is gray in between. And just because a person is capable of wickedness doesn't mean they will act upon it. And then there is a notion of perceived morality. People .... decide based upon appearance that someone in monstrous. Only because he is still wrestling with what he was told he was supposed to be versus who he actually is."
In thinking about a man I have befriended this year, and have become a sober sponsor and mentor to, Klune's word smithing strikes a chord: "He dreams of death and fire and destruction, and it tears at him. But do you know what I found? I found a [13 year old boy in a 39 year old mans body. Below the hurting struggling former addict with a dragon tattoed on his face I found a boy/man] who dances, who sings, who lives for music, and it moves through him like blood in his veins. We are who we are not because of our birthright, but because of what we chose to do in this life. It cannot be boiled down to black and white. Not when there is so much in between. You cannot say [someone], is moral or immoral without understanding the nuances behind it [him]." When the Holy Spirit allows me to look beyond my ancient and ingrained perceived morality, and see each man here as a potential fellow Christ follower, I swap out a plank. My growing paternal relationship with this millinial is truly causing me to see discipleship in an entirely new light. I try my best to mentor him, to love him, to understand the nuances behind him, to reflect the character and conduct of Christ by setting a good example: and on occasion I actually use words. I can only think to compare it to Paul discipling Timothy or the felonious Oneismus(13).
Moreover, I have come to realize during the past 4100 days, it is in understanding the nuances of the person behind the incarcerate that have encouraged me to swap out my planks. I wrote back on October 3rd that, "I am ashamed of how many years I walked around the fair and silently judged those whom I now realize were struggling with life's hurts, habits, and hangups (especially drug addiction) and just wanted to enjoy the fair: being with 'their people'. They looked disheveled, unwashed, greasy, and zombie like. I would pull my children in closer as they passed by. I would move my phone to my front pocket and push my cash a little deeper down. My -isms were on quiet display. After encountering these same men over the past 4100 days I now know that they were probably strung out on meth or worse. Embarrassingly, I can remember being amused by tweakers whose bodily jerking and popping could have qualified them as sideshow circus freaks. It is horrible to admit, but one of the favorite things I did at the fair was just set on a bench off of the midway and watch the drunks and disjointed twitchers try to keep their tics and bobbing undercover. They were hilarious. However, they did not need my sanctimonious snickering. They needed my prayers."
Father forgive me.
Of top priority to me these past 4100 days of incarceration has been swapping out that heir of sanctimony that is one of the primary planks in my keel: silently rotting out beneath the waterline, but effecting the entire ship. Every time I have learned something that I didn't know that I didn't know about the pain filled past of so many of my fellow incarcerates, I find myself humbled and having to reevaluate the abundance of Christ centered privileges and coverings that I grew up with. Every time I have learned something that I didn't know that I didn't know about the pain filled past of so many of my fellow incarcerates, I swap out my sanctimonious church of Christ ingrained notions of perceived morality and judgementalism for grace, mercy, and love. This is even more evident and of greater importance to me as my sponsee/mentee and I become more and more transparent with each other and a genuine friendship/brotherhood has developed.....many planks swapped. I have swapped deck boards out with hull boards. I have swapped out oak for birch. I have swapped out waterlogged planks for those that have been sun bleached. I have swapped some of my own keel boards out with some of his.
Rugged flexibility and swapping out planks are two of the takeaways I read about in Peter's Acts 11 vision that informed his future of accepting everyone the way they are when they come to Christ. Peter had to rethink a lifetime of sanctimonious -ism's. The apostle struggled with not seeing things in black or white, as moral or immoral, as clean or unclean. There is plenty gray in between, especially during the lifelong process of sanctification. Peter had to realize that just because a person is capable of wickedness does not mean that he will act on it. He had to ditch a lifetime of perceived morality and deciding based upon appearance (circumcision) that someone in monstrous. As a man whose financial stability depended upon his boat, he knew the importance of being a plank swapper.
Similar to Peter's audacious and shockingly insane revelation of Acts 11, we read in Gal. 3:28 and Col. 3:11 that Paul became a plank swapper extrordinare. He learned to become ruggedly flexible as he was undergoing such rapid emotional and spiritual growth that it often put him at odds with his former friends, family, and coworkers. However, this disciple of love eventually picked up what the Father was laying down, teaching him to look past labels to really see people: to understand the pain behind their hurts, habits, and hangups resulting in a his transformation as well as theirs. Paul and Peter knew that change comes slowly for some people, but that the effort has its rewards for both.
Answering the trendy summer hashtag "#how often you think about the Roman Empire?", when I do think of the Roman Empire, I think of transformative power of Paul and Peter. Their willingness to dismantle everything they were ever taught about their Jewish heritage and then rebuild their lives in the image of Christ is what I am referring to when I write of rugged flexibility, allostasis, and swapping out planks. Paul and Peter understood that they were created in Father's image but then they met Yahweh Father in the persona of Jesus and they realized that they did not truly reflect him at all. They had to purposefully reassess and rebuild several times during their ministries. They had to trust in the guardian Yahweh Father who originally formed them to guide them through their gradual sanctification, reeducation, and renaissance. They went from order>>disorder>>REorder. They went from x>>y>>z.
Fortunately I was blessed to watch Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 3 over the past 100 days. In the final part of this trilogy we see one of Rocket's fellow orphaned science experiments use a saying to bring comfort and reassurance to the stressed out kidnapped pup "Mo Ergastee Forn, Mo Ergalon Forte (these are the hands that made us, these are the hands that guide the hands)", referencing being molded by a higher power into the being that we are supposed to be. Basically, that encouragement is analagous to Lao Tzo's quote, "When I let go of what I am, I become what I should be." I wrote about this back on Day #1500(10-9-2016) in "Shards" when I said, "We don't get to tell the potter how to create the pot(14)." As I continue to allow God to use my incarceration to transform me, I see the potential to become closer to being the man he had in mind for me to be, as well as fulfilling the role that he had in mind for me to fulfill. As the familiar Neuruth's Boat metaphor postulates, the ship is being rebuilt at sea, plank by plank the activity of rebuilding guides our theory of what the ship ideally should look like just as much as the ideal of what the ship should look like guides the activity of rebuilding it. As I let go of what I am and I become what I should be I am seeing my preordained destiny(15) to be a reflection of Jesus in my character, conduct, and conversation come to fruition and take sail.
Essentially, I think that was part of the point of Guardians Vol. 3. When this raccoon orphan, when these ragtag Guardians, much like the orphans of the Cerulean Sean, and the orphans I am incarcerated with, to include myself, begin to form their own non-blood familial units I find a strange affirmation in their faithfulness and loyalty to their amalgamated familes. The shared love among friends/people whom you are forced into cooperative relationships with, whom become your chosen family, is no less real than those bonds born out of blood. In many cases, these adopted family bonds are even more real. Where is/was the love and loyalty of my two children. Where is/was the loyalty of my blood family? Where is the contact/encouragement from my blood family or former church family? Where was the loyalty of Paul's family and former religious sect? We are all interdependent on the family Father creates us to be in as much as, if not more than, the families we are born into(16). Psalms 68:6 declares that Yahweh Father sets the lonely (and orphans) into families, and that he leads prisoners out with singing. We see these resultant familial relationships play out in scripture between Johnathon and David, David and Mephiboseth, Ruth and Naomi, Saul and Samuel, Paul and Oneismus, Elijah and Elisha, and eventually Peter and Paul. We are who we are not because of our birthright, but because of what we chose to do in this life. We are family with whom we are family with, not necessarily because of our birthright, but because of whom we chose to voyage through this life with.
Today, as I reflect back upon "The House on the Cerulean Sea" I identify and empathize with the main character's role of social worker visiting the Cerulean orphanage. Ironically, I still sometimes feel as if I am an orphan myself. There is encouragement in Jesus promise of John 14:18 that he will not leave us as orphans. However, more often than not, I feel as if I am a social worker surrounded by Millinial and Gen-Z orphans who have oh so slowly taken their time to grow up. As Klune writes of his social worker/CPS(17) protagonist, "I've seen things. Here. Learned things I didn't know before. It changed me." Being incarcerated has changed parts of me, but not my core principles(18). Being incarcerated these past 4100 days has reinforced Jesus' message to, as Klune writes, "Never judge what a person is capable of based upon appearance alone." There is so much truth there. In my life I have met so many well intentioned Christ followers, close relatives even, whose notion of perceived morality is so ingrained that they embody the cliché of being "so heavenly minded that you are no earthly good." This applies whole heartedly to the church of Christ that I grew up in. As I stated earlier, I am ashamed of how many years I silently judged those whom I now realize were struggling with life's hurts, habits, and hangups (especially drug addiction) and they just wanted to escape their pain filled memories of childhood sexual, physical, and mental abuse. They looked disheveled, unwashed, and greasy. I would pull my children in closer as they passed by. I would move my phone to my front pocket and push my cash a little deeper down. My -isms were on quiet display." How shameful! My incarceral experiences have left me slightly more liberal than the environment that I was raised in. At 55 I am even more expressive now than ever before about my own personal desires and beliefs, and am now much more likely to call out a "Christian conservative" on their prejudice, bigotry, sanctimonious posturing, and hypocrisy.
Yahweh Father, help me continue to ditch my perceived morality. After eleven years of meeting many men whom are locked up for nonsensical amounts of time for pettiness, or whom, like me, are the victim of weaponized false allegations, may I never, ever, forget that there is always more to their story. Satan, his demonic minions, his evil entities, his unholy spirits, lies and meth have left destruction and pain in their wake as they ride rough shod across Oklahoma. As Klune writes, "People .... decide based upon [rumor and] appearance that someone in monstrous. Only because he is still wrestling with what he was told he was supposed to be versus who he actually is." May God bring shame upon me if I fall back into the old sinful habit of my past notions of perceived morality and occasionally set on the sidelines and snicker at those whom life has left hurting, thinking that they are nothing more than a monstrous sideshow freak. My job is to jump into the ring and help them win the wrestling match.....and if their boat crashes along the sanctification voyage, encourage them to hang on to the planks, swim for safety, get to the shallows, and then help pull them to shore(19). Thank you, Yahweh Father, for swapping out my planks. Thank you, Yahweh Father, for another nautical mile sailed along the transformational voyage towards rugged flexibility and allostasis.
Endnotes
1. I am enjoying the Career Technology Instructor's job that I have right now. It's rather ironic that my first job right out of high school was teaching at Career Tech (see My Future Plans). I am currently teaching math and financial literacy, showing incarcerated people how to create a budget, manage a checking account, write a résumé, and use online resources. I am also teaching them how to run a household, use current technology to their advantage, interact with others using proper social etiquette, present themselves with acceptable personal hygiene and grooming, and how to ditch the slang and speak business English to help increase their chances of employability. I feel like Professor Brown transforming my own Eliza Dolittles. It is a very satisfying job. I can see myself doing something similar on the outside. #Pygmalion
Look for my own updated résumé to post on December 7, 2023.
2. I joined my pod in participating in No Shave November by growing out my first adult moustache.... and I looked ridiculous. I thought I looked like Mr. Potato Head.
3. Overheard at a recent Scrabble game "this ain't Words with Friends! Get that shit off the table!" It was hilarious. Maybe you had to be there.
4. Of course, it was telling our son "No" that prompted him to run away, live with a grandmother whom would only say "Yes", and eventually commit perjury to retaliate for having boundaries set by his mother and myself. Read Legacy Part 2 on 3-12-22 Day #3480.
5. Acts 7:51
6. As has been a prison tradition for years (mostly do to hygiene reasons: not everyone washes their hands after using the toilet or masturbating), but especially after covid, we do not shake hands behind bars, we greet one another with fist bumps (do not expect me to shake hands upon my released!). I went to greet my nephson one Sunday morning in September, and for whatever reason he decided to give me a huge bear hug, trapping my clinched fist between our chests. As he squeezed me harder and harder we heard a crunch and pop. He either fractured or dislocated a rib. It never bruised or swelled. It only hurt when I did crunches or sit ups but took almost eight weeks to fully heal. It was a very powerful hug from a very, very strong thirty year old. I've also noticed some annoying knee and hip aches due to my running and very poor "sleeping pad". Aging. Ugh!
7. read Day #3338 about Myrtha Mikles weaponized false allegations.
8. Marty Grubbs at Crossings Church 9-24-23
9. Journal of American Medical Association
10. The metaphor is from Otto Neurath, Protocol Sentences (George Schick, trans.), in LOGICAL POSITIVISM 199, 201 (A.J. Ayer ed., 1959).
11. 105 Yale L.J. 2031 Yale Law Journal June, 1996 FOOLISH CONSISTENCY: ON EQUALITY, INTEGRITY, AND JUSTICE IN STARE DECISIS Christopher J. Petersd Copyright (c) 1996 Yale Law Journal Company, Inc. Christopher J. Peters
12. I started reading about ancient cosmology in a Dake's Bible commentary and just got lost in all of the remarks, notes, and hyperlinks. It was one of the most exciting and intriguing commentaries I've read lately.
13. Philemon
14. Isaiah 29:1
15. read Day #300 NO DICE
16. Mark 13:11-13
17. Child Protective Services
18. 2023 Core Values
i. Love God, love others
ii. 1190113 = Psalms 119:113 Do not be two faced.
iii. 663423 = Proverbs 16:33 = People may roll the dice, but it is God that orders the steps.
iv. Be authentic. Do not conform to the common. To reflect the character, conduct, and conversation of Jesus Christ.
v. Forgive
vi. Exercise my gifts
a. from God = to teach/serve (Romans 12:7)
b. from Jesus = to teach/equip (Ephesians 4:11)
c. from Holy Spirit = for discernment (1 Corinthians 12:7)
vii. To trust King Jesus, the Lord Jehovah Shalom, that justice, reconciliation, restoration of relationship, and restitution are coming.
viii. To daily declare that it is/was through Jesus' stripes that I am/was healed (Isaiah 53:5, 1 Peter 2:24).
19. Acts 27:44
Tuesday, November 14, 2023
Happy 77th Birthday to my Dad!
Happy 77th Birthday to my Dad!
Wow, I cannot believe you're 77. When I close my eyes I still visualize you as my 35 year old Scoutmaster wearing skin tight mid thigh high lime green Boyscout Uniform Shorts (pre-Oscar de La Renta redesign). I think the kids call those booty short these days!!! Not that I am ready for you to transition to the next stage of our spiritual evolution, but when we do get to the next Earth age I hope we get to go repelling together. There is nothing more reassuring than knowing your dad is "en bellet". Thank you for continuing to hold the other end of my rope these past 4092 days (actually since the 4940 days since my original warrant was issued on 4/27/10 for these weaponized false accusations). I couldn't have survived this time without you.Friday, November 3, 2023
Happy 75th Birthday Mom!
Happy 75th Birthday Mom!
I saw on television a commercial for Silver Dollar City. I sure wish I could go. I was sad to learn that they are replacing the "Fire in the Hole" rollercoaster. One of my earliest permanent memories as a 5-6 year old is of a trip to Silver Dollar City and waiting in line with my mother for my first rollercoaster ride. As we wound our way through the Baldnobbers graveyard I recall her helping me to read the nonsense epithets written in almost incomprehensible hillbilly spelling and cadence. I began to be more and more nervous as we made our way through the backwater fire station, but my mom reassured me that I could make it. And I did! It was such a thrilling ride for a kindergartner. I think that we rode it three or four more times that day. As a father I was so excited to take my own children to Silver Dollar City. They were both excited for their first ride on the "Fire in the Hole". They both loved it. I hope, I pray, that they have as fond recollections of riding it with me as I do of riding it with my mother.
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