Love is all there is.

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I was born to love. So are you.

I was a twin…so I was always in relationship…from conception.

Scott died…He fought hard for 18 hours and then gave it up. Me? I always live.

I miss him.

I have learned to not be bitter or be self-pitying. No. I own my life.

Most of my lessons have come from women.

Karen taught me how to parent. She was amazing. I stand in awe. Now she has Glenn (a man I hove the outmost of respect for)….it makes me happy.

Lori was harder but deeper. I am fast on the draw…but Lori can place three slugs in my chest while I am still drawing my gun. She is THAT fast.

I look at my chest…(with three holes ) and all I can say before I fall is “nice grouping.”

After her was Morgan…well that was an eye-opener. We could read each other’s minds from 30 feet.

It’s kinda too bad I was so fucked up.

I ran through others. Women too good for me.

Then Leslie.

There is simply no finer woman on this planet than Leslie Monthan.

And I broke her heart.She will read this and cry. No human being has ever gone to the dpeths with me like Leslie. She held me when I quaked.

I tip my hat to Jan Rogers in Little Rock.  In all fairness..I think all you girls shd get together…buy a gun and dispatch me.

Well revenge is a best dish served cold.

Molly Hallman is cold. She is cutting my heart out with a cold dull raged spoon.

I am in agony.

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Persistance

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I have not given up. I applied via letter to work at the Homeless Shelter yesterday…even graveyard shifts…which would be maybe $1,000 a month – JUST enough to keep this place with no money left over for extra food or anything else.

I am currently doing a re-write for a media company in China that could be a $30 an hour job. That could change things radically if I get it.

It takes immense amounts of energy to keep going in the face of such adversity – alone -. I think it is HERE that I miss Molly the most. She was my co-warrior and my best confidante and friend. Far beyond being a Lover, we did battle side by side (I did as much for her…and I am sure the last 8 months have not been easy for her either…but then she is the one being distant).

I must persist.

I feel certain this is frustrating for many of you who love me dearly. We don’t get to choose our trials. Hey…I could have cancer…or I could be where I was 2.5 years ago, stuck inextricably (it seemed) in the grip of a mental illness that was going to kill me.

I think it is hardest on my kids. How would you like to have a father who is perpetually homeless? They use to be able to point to alcohol and say that was the culprit – but now I don’t drink, I eat and excessively healthy diet (lost 60 pounds and still dropping) and I bring a strong work ethic. Still…I get laid off and work is hard to come by for a tall, white, educated male with no criminal record. And a guy with a patent and a Webby nomination.

Go figure.

It doesn’t make any sense at all and will drive me mad if I think about it, or my alone-ness or a whole variety of other things for any length of time at all.

My daughter tried to reach out to me three times last week – via PHONE!

Well, I’m not a reactionary but if God doesn’t come to the rescue here and wishes me out then I am going – leaving.

This town, named after the cross, seems to have little place for me except the Shelter. That would be my Church. The church leaders here have pigeon-holed me. I made the mistake of being honest about past issues. That was it for me. I won’t make the same mistake again in a new City.

But THIS is so PUBLIC!

Yeah and about 50 of you read it daily and I’m not too worried about that. Obscurity has its advantages.

Where will I go? Probably Oakland. Perhaps someone will shoot me. I’m slow and a very big target.

3 or so months ago I rolled into town with nothing..and here I sit…phoneless..but semi-viable…if God comes through. And yes..I hhave to put all my eggs in one basket.

Thoreau’s statement about people living lives of “quiet desperation” is not the end of the sentence. he goes on to say that they go to the grave with the “song” of their life unplayed.

Why I Write

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(My apologies..in addition to my phone not working…Wordpress is now …today, stripping all my carriage returns out of my prose. Rather than fight it all morning…I GIVE. You therefore will have all lumped text with no paragraph breaks. You have to choose your battles folks and this is not one to fight all morning with. The MEANING of my message is here and that is what is important).

An old friend I met in the homeless shelter in Marin wrote me the other day and said “well the best I can figure is you write either for God or for Molly.” Then he proceeded to suggest that both were either disinterested or too busy (although he said if I found that God wasn’t I should let him know.) Well we all fight the fear of insignificance – some men more consciously than others. I happen to be one of those guys who, from age 20, when I read Ernest Becker’s The Denial of Death, and then Pascal’s Pensees, would always KNOW that the question of “meaning” would be at the core. And let’s face it, things have not exactly turned out all that well for me when it comes to human meaning. I have fought epic battles but no one cares and my friend suggests that the two most significant beings in my universe don’t care either…or even have time to care. He thinks I do not know this. First of all Molly doesn’t read anything that I write and has as little to do with me as possible NOT because she hates me, but because she loves me. Her attempt to break and unbreakable bond is to try and utterly have nothing to do with me. It is not working for either of us. It has been eight months (was supposed to be six) and when we saw each other it was like a bomb blast. Yeah, good luck with that…for either of us. It can be three years from now…nothing will have changed. I’m just adjusting my several safety belts for the long haul. God cares more than my friend understands – but not about numbers. He cares about faithfully telling the Truth. This is what “witnessing” truly is – not that BS with the funny little tracts. So why do I write Sansadobe? Being homeless is an excruciating situation that few understand who have not lived it. Those who live it can rarely articulate its ins and outs. I can (and I write fast). I learned that from this GUY. You have to LIVE in the middle of it – be INCARNATE. That is the way of God. Jesus, God in the flesh,  “pitched His tent” (John 1:18) and dwelt among us. It’s audacious love. And when He was done, others wrote about it. It’s called the New Testament. Now I am just writing from inside Homelessness…just one facet of the human condition. I am, right now, not homeless. I am sitting at my desk in my roomy one room little house. But I could be again at any time.

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Thoreau said “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation.” This is because of the meaning part. I don’t write because it gives my life meaning. It does not. If so I would need a big audience to affirm my primary value. No, I write simply to tell the Truth. One of the aspects of that Truth is that recently these posts are too much about ME. That is why they are somewhat humorless. I don’t find myself funny. I’m scared I will lose this place now that I am here. Faith is a rough object and when you have been a disciple for a long enough time God expects you to have “grown a pair.” I have two weeks to come up with maybe a grand. My phone is still not working and the new one continues to not arrive. It’s …um…unnerving. Most Christians won’t write about this stuff. They talk all about “victory” and candy-coat everything. It’s a huge marketing campaign. Most of it is a lie. Most of Paul’s letters were written from Homelessness (prison). And there is no escape. No drugs or alcohol. No woman. I live alone and my one close friend (The Great One) is too broke to even really visit me. The last time he came he stayed over and his back hurt him so bad laying on the futon on the floor. Finally I said “get up in the bed ya big lug.” And that reminded me, as we both lay there, of who God has been making me in this whole process because I can’t think of any one of my friends who would invite a 400 pound black man into their bed without having some problem with it. But I just don’t. And I do find that meaningful about my life, because underneath my fears and all the stuff I have to battle there is tensiled steel that only God can forge. I can be with anyone, love anyone. Of course it is not hard to love The Great Reynaldo – but then many people would hate him not having eyes to see his true beauty. I have that too. If I am Homeless again at the end of the year I will probably leave Santa Cruz (having had my ass kicked here one too many times). But I hope God comes through and I get to stay. The one thing is I won’t give up and I won’t give into fear or faithlessness. And I will still love Molly and I will still place my utter trust in Christ. I am obviously not doing these things out of emotion. I write because I am supposed to.  No one is under any obligation to read.

I’ll Take My Mac Scrambled

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One of the first Christian poets I ever read was Luci Shaw. I got ahold of The Secret Trees at 20 and read (among other things):

We cannot
name ourselves

“We wait for God
or Satan
to tell us who we are”

You may or may not believe in a personal Devil and I don’t really care. Those of us at street level are under no illusions

When the Great Reynaldo came up to my house and we sat down we cut through all the crap. We always do. There are no preliminaries. There is no warm-up. We don’t have to and that is probably one of the many things we love best about each other. We just get to it.

Well I am a rational man. I know that I lot of what I am experiencing is simply massive changes: new job, a move, then being laid off – a shift from being in a large community where I am known to being alone in the country and somewhat isolated. Any man would have a hard time keeping a sense of center – of real equilibrium. And it was not exactly like I had a year of stability behind that. I’ve had constant change. My one constant is God.

The reason The Great One is so important is that we tell each other the Truth. Not the sort of “Tough Love” bullshit – we are WAY beyond that. That get’s done in the joking phase. No we are taking things that are far more important and visionary.

TGO can look at me and say “You cannot serve two masters” and what he means is I cannot keep wasting time on dating sites when I am actually in love with a single woman (and we all know who that is). And that is probably not ever going to work out. So best to just quit it (I did) – move on and concentrate on my One and only Master – “what you DO have in front of you?”

But STOP wasting time and being diverted. Let God name you.

No moralisms, no big argument. Just Truth. And here is the thing: no judgment. The Great One will love me no matter what I do.

I have done this as well. It took awhile for him to get it. He thought I wanted to win “the argument.” I couldn’t care less.

The bottom line is you either trust God or you believe and trust in everything else.

I can tell you that the ONLY thing that keeps me going is faith. Without it I would have taken the long swim quite awhile back…but as is I have no intention. I have things to do – things to do with TGO.

We will not be named by The Enemy. We will be named by God as painful as that may be and as costly as it is (and make no mistake it is very costly).

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Clarity Comes

In prayer clarity comes – often.

Get back to what works – diet and exercise and a regiment. Service – through Feeding the Spirit. Get to the new Church (where I have not been labeled). Admit that my heart is given to one woman already and accept the relationship as it now lays (for God’s sake do NOT seek anything new).  Cultivate your devout side. Work hard at the new job God provides. Keep it simple.

This blog used to be a lot funnier (or funny). I’m sure it will be again. This is a serious time.

The Great One

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I had to wait most of the day. I was almost arrested once (that’s a different story) but finally the Great Reynaldo  came out of the 66 bus and we embraced then sat down on the bench.

We are both broken and know it. It’s why we cry out to God and often weep. That takes faith because you experience that what is lost is being found.

We laughed hard two hours later ….God throwing a massive black Chicago Gansta in with a lilly-white NorCal Intellectual….BLAM. “Yer partners…deal.”

Well I admit that it helps that TGR is brilliant. He can go toe to toe with me….and does.

But that is not it at all.

No. This guy can bring it right into the paint like I can. It’s scary how good he is.

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Here are some things I learned.

Both of us have a deep well of pain….but his is far deeper and real.

He’s right. We both speak Truth into each other.  Sometimes it takes me some time to get it. Most of the time we are right THERE.

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Greatest quote to date from the Great One? “Oh I’m sorry…do you not have time…do you have to catch a flight?”

I about shat myself with laughter.

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What we both agreed upon is that we need to die.

Er….to SELF.

We are not gonna get what we want. Period.

Many people get to do so. They have houses and mortgages, savings accounts, retirement and lives I have forgotten….That is God’s GRACE. I am happy for them.

The Great Reynaldo and I do not get this option. No. We have to die t self….which is soemthing (by the way) few preachers in America will ever admit.

I had to ait