August 20, 2015

Facing Reality

I wrote this Monday night.  A bit bummed, for it was a hard anniversary week - with all of the sly pitfalls Satan can hurl my way.  Now editing it to reflect reality this morning!

Since I could not sleep Sunday night, for I was still so wound up from the weekend with Laurin McCracken, I did a great deal of thinking...

I really do want to paint much more than I do, so I am going to have to force myself and those around me to understand that I want at least four hours a day (or more!) to just practice my art.  Yeah, I know it will suck but I want to practice and then maybe one day not suck!  Big maybe.

At the Daniel Smith store there is a new cashier by the name of, Mink.  Mink?  Who would name your kid that!?!?!?!  Turns out it is just a name she liked and chose it.  Then what is my nick name?  Oh dear!  In reality it is either Dork or Flake, your choice, I have been called that since I first started working on computers in 1972 - and understood how they  worked as if by my very nature!  Why?  Because I was defined as having nothing in common with reality.  She just stared at me and stepped back like I was a leper.  Really, computer nerds are scarey now?  Clowns are scarey, snowmen are evil, computer nerds are relatively harmless ....  But, yeah, I was a flake, still am, and still need help with reality - since no one seems to want to help me with that one!

Since the infection and fever (which almost killed me), I have developed a tremor.  Usually I do not notice it, but Friday I was looking at Ruger's new pistol offerings and - oh yeah, it was noticeable!  So, I am planning a range day for next month after school starts so I can see how bad this tremor is.  If I can not match shots such as I am known for - it maybe time to sell the collection.  Of what value are rifles with 1600 meter ranges, if you can not hold the rifle to make the shot?  Or my competition pistols for that matter.  If I can still do a 100 meter shots, then I will keep my hunting rifles, else they go as well.  I am hoping I can hold well enough for my .22 long rifle arms - it would sadden me greatly to have to part with them.  But October is the next show, so a good time to see them go!

Conversely, I could go with black powder, they are only good for short distances anyway.  Perhaps time for a 1760 Charlesville rifle in .69 caliber?  :)  They will crater anything within 40 yards, not so much value after that though.  LOL ...

And in further facing of reality, how can one know?  I used to be able to "know" the future, I could see it plain as day, now it is a little muddy.  Oh I still seem to have retained the curse of "know"ing some people I see or meet.  But, I am beginning to understand how many think of life as a crap shoot - roll the dice, what is, is.  Fatalistic.

In watercolor class on Sunday was a lawyer - I "know" to be a bitter old man, a bully.  So he decided that he wanted to represent me in a suit against the hospital which messed me up.  I loudly told him it was terminal, without the intervention of God.  "Good luck on that one.", was his reply.  Yeah, the words of a bitter man whom blames God for his own choices in life.  I have met many like him through the years, just never could understand their problem until now.  So much like my mining partner now living in Arizona.  Of course, his issue with God was the shafting he got in high school from his church - and I have to agree, what happened is inexcusable on the part of the church.  But, it scarred him for life.  Now 87, he still can not forgive God for what happened, nor see that it was very broken humans in the church whom framed him - not God.  It was all in his response, not in what others did.  Sigh ...

And I am finally working on a letter to the family, laying out what has happened to me and where I am now in the recovery process.  Yeah, I am putting up an expensive fight!  But, in the end, we are dealing with a form of staph, which has attacked my heart.  My major organs are at at level 4 in their failure sequences.  I can not manufacture red blood cells, the iron transport system is down, the white blood cells are attacking the antibiotic - it is just a mess inside of me it seems.  And I may now have Homolytic Anemia.

Such a fun letter to write because now, today, I KNOW my body has recovered by "magic".  No, it is God, and they are going to hear all about it! :)  Maybe one day I will introduce myself to all of my friends and family - this new Kris is not going to be what they are expecting ... nor may like any longer.

And finally, it is with its due emphasis to know that everything I am undergoing is in the realm of God's good, not my own.  My sufferings are to His glory, to His witness, to His demonstration - so I am witnessing to all around me - so they can watch and see - perhaps to then find Him waiting.  It is not so hard, there is nothing of old Kris left and new Kris is still forming.  I am free to just be who I am - a broken man, whom can witness to God's power and grace ...

And perhaps, one day joy and happiness ...

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