Disappointment and Addiction

It isn’t hard to see disappointment in the fact that I stepped back from Facebook for a breather. The endorphins that would accompany a like or a share are addictive, and to go from several of those a day to none all of a sudden is pretty difficult. But that isn’t what any of this is about. You can read my post about stepping back to see more of the reason as to why I had to step back from Facebook, to the point where I only interact once a week. I am not going into it here, but I know that disappointment pretty well.

Recently I had a friend, I won’t put him on blast but if he reads this he will know who he is, that upended his entire social network footprint. He turned his back on all of those who have loved him through some difficult times over the last few years, even going as far to blame them for some of his heartbreak. I understand it. Completely. He may have thought I have no clue, but I do. He wrote a book and expected it to sell like hotcakes, I had similar illusions of grandeur in my head when I started writing. Where he seed my book as a success his seemed like a failure. I was blessed in the very beginning by a lot of really good friends that donated to my Kickstarter, but the first sign it wasn’t going to be like I thought was when my Kickstarter failed. For those who don’t know, if a Kickstarter is not fully funded you get nothing. I was less than a thousand from my overall goal.

My first heartbreak was the fact that my church that I sowed a lot of time and resources into, didn’t think my writing was a worthy cause to promote. Instead they promoted another very talented person in the church, giving money, talking about their project from the pulpit. I gave money to her campaign, and when mine failed I urged all of my backers to instead give the money to her, since I wasn’t able to get any money from the campaign. I held on, and was tempted to put the difference in from my inheritance. But I didn’t because a lot of people told me to have faith that it would come through… It never did.

I didn’t give up though. I finished writing my book and released it under schedule. Everyone who had given to the campaign had gotten a free copy, even though their support wasn’t fully realized. I paid out of my inheritance from my mom for everything, almost $3,000. I had it professionally edited by a beautiful sister, the kindle version laid out from a missionary friend, the book cover designed by another amazing lover of Jesus in another country. After the book launched, I started an advertising push with the same missionary friend that did the Kindle layout.

To this date, I have spent roughly $6,000 and the returns on that investment have been relatively low, way less than my investment.

On Facebook, I would post quick thoughts and I would sometimes get 40-50 likes and a handful of shares, I would get recognition from people I respected dearly and those endorphins would just fire off. In much the same way as when I was addicted to pornography, it wasn’t the act that I was addicted to but the endorphins. I found that I replaced the endorphins from my addiction to pornography with the recognition of my peers.

When it came out, I had quite a few people who I had given several copies out to, that would do live videos on Facebook reading parts of it. They were promoting it to others, giving copies away. I had a handful that bought several copies with the sole purpose of giving them out. I had people I never met reach out to me on Facebook telling me how much they enjoyed the book. How it opened their minds to different ways to think about things.

The success of my book certainly wasn’t monetary. To this day I am still paying for advertising on Amazon, to the tune of a $100 a month some months, and my take after spending that might be $30-40 if I am lucky.

So why am I writing this?

Well, because I know disappointment, when I released my book I was thinking about how different my life would be after I released. I imagined speaking engagements, I imagined travel all over the world. I thought I would be held in the esteem of other authors who have written books I found great value in.

I consider my book a success, because it is out there and anyone can get it. But financially it is not. I still have to work full time and spend money promoting it. It is truly a labor of love, because I want people to see just how beautiful and valuable to God that they are.

I have done a lot of things in my life to varying levels of success, but I continue plugging away trying to live the dream I have for myself. I want the opportunity to travel, and speak, and show everyone the love of God. But know it will probably never look like what I think it should.

On Facebook, I would post quick thoughts and I would sometimes get 40-50 likes and a handful of shares, I would get recognition from people I respected dearly and those endorphins would just fire off. In much the same way as when I was addicted to pornography, it wasn’t the act that I was addicted to but the endorphins. I found that I replaced the endorphins from my addiction to pornography with the recognition of my peers.

Here I sit disappointed that now I do not have the recognition and acceptance from the people that I once had, all because of the political division that is happening right now. My opinions don’t line up with others I may agree with in so many other ways. Because of which I kind of feel rudderless in a rushing river heading for a huge waterfall.

I can convince myself that others I respect dearly have been plugging away for years, and their levels of success vary wildly. A megachurch pastor that I have a great deal of respect for who is the same age as I am, has campuses all over the southeast and other parts of the country as well. He sells millions of copies of new books when they come out, his church’s band release new music to wild success as well. The temptation to ask “why?” comes up often, but I know the guy has worked hard through mounds of disappointment to get where he is now. I am sure he also had seasons of fear and depression about certain things.

It is only human.

Only human.

Human.

It is only human to be wanted, desired, cared about, It is only human to desire humanity. It is only human to wish everything you touch to be a success. That is after all how God created us to be.

Peace and Love.

J.

A Gospel Perspective of Black Lives Matter

When faced with the death of Freddie Gray and Trayvon Martin in 2013-14 certain members of the black community decided to organize a movement to polarize a nation. More than just a political polarization, but a movement that divided us by the color of our skin, something we are born with that we cannot change. Even though there are folks who try, I believe just like gender it is not a spectrum that can simply be changed. That doesn’t change how I feel about people who think they can, it is okay because we are all simply trying to figure out how to live in our own skin.

I make no bones about it, I am white, I do not know what it means to be black. I don’t pretend to. What I do know is what it feels like to be marginalized and pushed aside either because of something you cannot change or by a dumb decision we make. I know it isn’t easy to try and find acceptance with people who may not want to accept us as we are. I have never been in a position where I was in the accepted crowd, most of the time I am in the fringe. I am guilty of calling people foolish or dumb, but I have also been on the receiving end of this criticism as well. I know it hurts to not feel equal.

This battle has gone back to the beginning of time, and it will honestly go until the end. Because as humans we are tribal, we congregate in groups we are most comfortable with. When we aren’t comfortable we tend to pull away or show out. I am going through this season right now, I see things creeping back up that I thought I had escaped from years ago.

The group I had felt most comfortable with all of a sudden became very critical of each other, I kept seeing posts from people I would trust with my life and experience calling others foolish or dumb, and the ones on the receiving end echoing the same comments. My heart broke as people I was close to would tell me privately they agreed with my fears or concerns, but then publicly saying the opposite. I did not see my tribe any longer, but felt like I was on the outskirts of the tribe I loved.

I say all this to say that Black Lives Matter has done more to divide us than to unite us.

Those who know me and know my heart know that for decades I have cried for unity in the church, it wasn’t until recently though that I realized that before the church can be unified that we must find unity with who we truly are, in doing so we can see others as they truly are. I found that when I focused on Jesus inside of me that I could see Jesus inside of others, I wasn’t concerned with the affairs of the world. But, then the world decided to tell people that their hearts, their words and actions didn’t matter because of the color of their skin. I was told to let members of the black community grieve, to offer my shoulder in solidarity. Then I saw people in the Black Lives Matter organization demand white folks to kneel and apologize for their white privilege. In fear these people kneeled. Not because they wanted to but because an army marched on them and demanded it.

The act of kneeling has played a part in the rise and fall of empires. I am reminded of the movie 300, when Leonidas faced the king of the Ottomans, Xerxes, and said that Xerxes was the greatest king to ever live but that he would never kneel because his knees were tired from fighting. I watched the entire series of Game of Thrones, and for the most part I enjoyed it until the last season. But kneeling played a role in showing fealty to a king. Conquering kings would demand it to show they had overcome their enemy. This practice in the fictional show of Game of Thrones was taken from centuries of history. Kneeling showed you were defeated and not equal.

If a white person demanded a black person to kneel the same people that celebrate the kneeling of white people would be outraged and call for equality. It would be considered a racist action, and our very polarized government would probably add that to the growing list of hate speech terms that can be prosecuted. But yet it is okay for the Black Lives Matter activists to demand that of white people.

It is not okay for a white person to chase down a black person and film them because they cut off the white person on the freeway. But recently a black person chased down a white woman, shamed her horribly on camera, she is terrified. Instead of being criticized its celebrated, shared millions of times, and even the company the person worked for would be terrified to fire the person. I reported the tweet because I was terrified for the woman, because her license tag was shown on Twitter, her apartment building was shown, the woman crouched over her tag trying to conceal it but the damage was done. Apparently, he has done similar stuff before specifically with white or Asian women.

Why do I bring all of this up? Because if the person behind this Twitter account saw Jesus in this woman, and saw Jesus in himself and others would he have gone out of his way to shame this woman?

In fact more and more people in the black community are rising up against the partial view of Black Lives Matter, and calling for All Black Lives to Matter. In a recent interview on “The Breakfast Club” a woman by the name of Angela Stanton-King was interviewed, she is also running for congress in Atlanta, GA. She was a lifelong Democrat who was arrested and sentenced due to her role in a car-theft ring, but Donald Trump pardoned her and she has taken to trying to reunite families that are victims of mass incarceration. But she has some words for the black community about abortion, gang violence, and murder in the black community.

In the beginning of this latest series of protests and violence I tried to remain quiet, but then I was told if I stayed quiet that it was violence, then it was racism because I didn’t agree with all of the narratives tossed around. I saw post after post of white people posting memes about white guilt, sharing books about it, talking about unconscious racism, and when I called shenanigans I was accused of outright racism. I interviewed a close friend about all of this on the latest episode of The Warrior’s Cry .

I have had numerous conversations with another member of the black community, her name is Jolene. She is constantly posting about orphan-hood being the cause of all of this, and I completely agree with her. If people saw themselves adopted in Jesus, and saw Jesus in others around them, what would it look like?

What happens when we see Jesus in others?

What is the Gospel? Some have differing perspectives of this and I respect the different viewpoints. But how I see the Gospel is simple. It lies in the choice between Life and Knowledge. I will write more on this topic in the future, but at the root of everything is a choice between Life and Knowledge. Jesus said in John 6:25-70 that He is the Bread of Life, and that we must eat from Him and drink of His Blood to be included in Him. This is the crux of the Gospel, we must eat of Him and Drink of Him to be included, but when we choose to eat from the other we act out of our own understanding and knowledge, rather than make decisions based on Life.

When faced with something that typically triggers you into anger, choose. Eat from Jesus, Drink from Jesus and the decision you make will not cause you to harm another for any reason. Our identities are not tied up in our skin, or even our actions and words. Our identities are totally wrapped up in Jesus, and if we aren’t about reconciliation then nothing else that we do matters.

Reconciliation and equality does not mean diminishing another or their roles in society, it does not mean shaming another or trying to replace them. What it does mean is that we hold out our hands and help those who feel downtrodden and lift them to the same level we are. It means that we care for the brokenhearted, not by diminishing ourselves but by loving them in spite of the political narratives that are flying around. It does not mean burning down the things which have elevated themselves, but rather love the people involved as Jesus loves us.

In short the point of this journal entry is a Gospel perspective of Black Lives Matters. Yes, all of those Black Lives Matter. The black babies in the wombs ripped out because of inconvenience. All of the black kids killed at the hands of other black kids. The 3 year old executed by teenagers, David Dorn murdered for trying to stop the looting of his friend’s pawn shop, Breonna Taylor murdered in her home by police, George Floyd murdered by a Derek Chauvin while other cops stood around and watched it happen. As of Jun 8, 2020, 19 people have been murdered, How many of their lives mattered?

Black Live Matter to me. But so do the lives of every single other person who loses theirs due to no fault of their own, I do not believe in the death penalty, I do not believe in abortion, I do not believe in violence of any kind.

This is the Gospel perspective of Black Lives Matters…

Your life matters to me.