Sunday, April 25, 2010

#161 Did He see me cry (retro)

Did HE see me cry?

Well, sorry for not posting yesterday, lots of stuff was going on. First there was the NFL Draft (hey, you know I am a sports fan). I actually thought it was going to start at noon, but I forgot they are trying to shorten it up so it doesn’t put people to sleep.

Then of course you had several NBA Playoff games, and throughout the day we had some company, and watched a DVD of Ring of Honor Wrestling. It was a pretty decent day.

But one thing I am really trying not to do is force a blog. I can’t say how important it is to hear from you, which is why I keep giving you email and asking for comments. Before what I did what blog just to blog, and to try to attract readers. But I think it is easier for me to let the questions come to me, rather than just spraying blogs out there.

So when I don’t get any emails, I have to say to myself, “I can’t blog unless I have something to talk about”. That’s odd because I DO have lots to talk about, but I want this to be more interactive, rather than me just running my mouth.

Every now and then I will have something to blog about, but I am trying not to blog just for the sake of putting something out there. I hope you understand.

Well, I am half way done with my first blog book, and I will give you more details on that as I go, so I hope I can get some support from that. Remember I still have the first 3 books of “Grades of Honor” and many other writings, so email me at derf4000 (at) embarqmail (dot) com for details.

I was reading an email from a person who has been following my blogs, and is a supporter of my writing, and she was mentioning to me about her loved one who went to the hole for a charge and she was kinda worried about him.

I thought about that and the night before I was thinking about the time I spent in prison, and some of the time I spent in the hole….

The “hole” for the novice, is another word for seg cells, or isolation. A small room where you stay 24 hours a day, except for an hour for yard time. I spent almost 17 months in one of those cells in jail, before I went to prison. But while in prison, I was put in the hole twice.

But I was thinking last night if someone ever really thought about if God sees when inmates cry. I mean, if you have a loved one in prison, the chances are very slim that you will see them break down and cry. Some do, but by far, most don’t.

It’s really an existential question, because if God sees all, then we KNOW he saw me cry. I have fallen to my knees numerous times while in county jail and cried. My mattress had to have been soaked with tears of my guilt, failure and condemnation. I never cried in front of my mom, she never saw me cry during my whole incarceration because I knew she was already sad; I could not add any more to that.

It would be more than I could bear.

I am sure God saw me cry and convince myself that death was better than my current status in life. I am sure He saw me tie socks and a towel into knots and make a noose, and stick my head in it to hang myself.

I know He saw that. Maybe what really wanted to know was if He cared.

If you have been reading my blogs for over a year, you have likely read some of my much older blogs where I talked about suicide. If you are new those blogs are not available online now, since I pulled them all off.

There is no question that He saw me, just as clearly as I can see the monitor I am typing on right now. But did He care that I was about to end my life?

I was committed to ending my life more than once in that cell, though nobody ever knew, since I did all that in the quiet of the night in that single cell. The last time I remember attempting suicide I had almost made it foolproof. Once I got on that noose, and started to swing, my feet would be too high to touch the floor. Once I was in, I was in.

But at the moment I did it, and quickly started to see my life drain, it was like something was telling me “no”. I wanted to die, not knowing or caring about the days I enjoy now. I could not see that far ahead. All I saw was despair and condemnation, and it wasn’t worth living for.

But Someone else saw further.

And maybe that was why I could not finish the job, and begin to frantically struggle to reclaim my life. I remember getting out of the noose and falling to the hard floor, with a sore neck. I questioned myself, wondering why I could not finish it, why couldn’t I kill myself.

Maybe it was because Someone cared. Someone saw my life years later, and had pity on me. And it had to have been the same person who saw me cry in the showers while in prison. Those of you who have my “Grades of Honor” books have likely read the part where I broke down and cried in the shower at Pasquotank Correctional.

I cried because I had nothing but damnation. I cried because I let everybody down. I cried because I lost faith in God. I cried because life was not worth living.

But after a time, I stopped crying. Not so much because things just got better, because the didn’t. But maybe, just maybe because Someone saw my condition and had compassion on me.

You ever been in a position where you were so tired that you fell down, but when you did, somebody came and helped you to your feet? That person gave you their strength and had compassion on you to help you stand again.

That’s kinda how I felt in that shower.

My outlook had not changed so much, but for some reason, I just felt that I had cried all I could, and I had to stand again and move forward. I still felt terrible, but somehow I had the strength to stand, wipe my tears and act like everything was normal.

In prison, you have to do that.

I remember those times, and many others too, and I sit here wondering if God saw me cry. It’s a foolish question because I know He did, but to take it a step further, I wondered if He really cared about me enough to wipe my tears and help me.

I realize I am not on the Top 100 list of the best Christians, but I also think I do my best when I can. And maybe that was what He saw. Maybe he also saw that many years later I’d be doing what I am doing now, because I certainly had no intentions of writing about this stuff. Yes, I fancy myself as a writer, but writing on prison issues was NOT my idea of a future.

Yet, here I am doing just that. I never saw this coming, and if you asked me while I was in jail or prison if I would do it, I would likely have refused. And even if I DID agree to do it, it would only be for a very short time, maybe a month or so.

I’ve been writing on prison issues for over 5 years, and the volume of what I have written is far, far more than you can imagine. If you think reading about 50 of my blogs here is a lot, then you DON’T want to see the rest of my writings.

Thousands of pages…I’m not kidding!

I didn’t say thousands of POSTS, I said thousands of pages. Not like a person on some prison support site with 10,000 posts, but 95% of them are single sentences that they copied and pasted.

And that does not include the prison cards and prison encouragement certificates that I have made either. Why on earth do I continue to do these things, because as you know, I have quit on this more than once only to come back.

Why do I keep writing, blogging and posting?

Maybe because I remember that He saw me cry…and cared enough to help me. A lot of people won’t do that, even if they are in a position to help. Lord knows, I have seen a lot of that in my blogs and my prison writing. Many people read my writing and they see me ask for support or an email and they pass it by. The same energy it took for a person to read my 3 or 4 page blogs could easily have been used to email me and say, “I like what you are doing” or “can you talk about this subject”.

In a literal way, I am crying on the internet, and thousands see me do it…yet so few care. I mean, for me to share experiences and thoughts means to sometimes look deep inside of me in hopes that your son or daughter, or husband or boyfriend or whomever might be better understood.

And sometimes it is painful to do. But I tell you this, it is worth it if I can get through to someone and help them. I’d write 100 blogs a week if I knew there were people who were really getting something out of it…

(well, I don’t think I’d write 100 blogs…especially with the NBA playoffs going on)

But when I go to bed at night, I wonder if I did the right thing, I wondered if this ex offender did good by blogging about prison issues or answered some email to someone who asked about a particular question. I wonder if I am doing the right thing.

And then I am reminded that I am doing the right thing. When you see someone cry, or crying, you try to help if you can; you show compassion. Someone did that for me, and it is only fair that I do it for someone else.

He saw me cry in jail and prison, and had compassion to help me. Thankfully, that seems to work in different ways, as I have blogged and written prison books and have received some wonderful support from some readers who had compassion on me. These are reminders to me that compassion comes in many different forms, and just as we get them, we ought to give it as well.

Which is probably why I blog and write so much about prison issues. And probably why I will continue to write a while longer. I’m not saying I won’t take a 3 week trip to the tropics if I hit the lotto, and you KNOW you’re not talking to saint anyway (even though I am a Saints fan).

So I think God saw this long ago, even while I was attempting suicide. There had to have been something greater to convince me not to kill myself, because I was determined that my life was worthless. But Someone saw value in me, and maybe felt that this college grad who loves sports, video games and cartoons, and loves to write, just might have good use in writing about his experiences in prison. So here I am.

Now don’t go getting all preachy on me guys, I just wanted to share that because there are some people that needed to hear that. Doing time in prison, even in the hole, is very tough, and it makes you wonder what value you have. But for every person in prison, there is at least one person that believes in them, and wants nothing more than to give them that compassion. I want to encourage you to continue to do that. I don’t care if he is a pen pal, husband, son, grandson or whomever, and this includes females too. If that person is someone you care about, don’t give up on them.

Anyway, I better go, email me at derf4000 (at) embarqmail (dot) com to ask about my books, cards and other stuff, or if you have a question. I promise nothing, but I can at least try.

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