This is a mask-free zone!

THESE masks are GOOD to wear.

Look how culturally relevant the title of my first post on this blog is!

But no.

I don't mean those masks.

I'm talking about the masks that most humans — including we Christians — are so good at wearing, every day. The ones that make us appear as good little Christians to other Believers and to Non-Believers as well.

Well, you won't find a mask like that here. At least, I'll be trying not to wear one here. We'll see how well I actually do with being open and honest at all times. After all, it can be very uncomfortable, both for you and the people around you.

But I feel like I will do alright. Because the fact is, by this point, I feel so worn out, so exhausted, that I feel I don't really have the energy to keep a mask on anymore.

I've been through the ringer. These last few years have really tested me in ways that I was neither expecting or wanting. Of course, who of us really want the trials when they come (except for perhaps a select few). I have always had a smidgen of Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD) and bouts of Depression. But certain events took place in the last few years that really short-circuited me, and made these mental illnesses flair up something fierce. My GAD evolved into a higher form of Anxiety and Panic Disorder, specifically.

My mom, who was one of my dearest friends and a spiritual giant on this Earth, passed away (breast cancer) in 2016. But interestingly enough, it wasn't her death, itself, that "short-circuited" me. It was her revealing to me that she had cancer.

To set the stage, I first have to talk about Thanksgiving 2015. Most of the family had gathered together, though we were missing a few (one of my sisters didn't come, and my wife wasn't present because she wasn't feeling well). Now, my parents were big fans of cheesy family Christmas movies. And one detail we always seemed to notice was how similar family depictions were in most of the films we watched. It was always a big family, made up of the token interracial couple, the token same-sex couple, and the sibling who married someone who was politically opposite from everyone else in the family. And then, the cherry on top was always that one of the parents had some form of cancer, and it would be their last Christmas with the family. While my family didn't check ALL of those boxes, we checked some. So as we all ate dinner together, I cracked a joke about it: "We've become one of those stereotypical 'Christmas movie' families; we've got the one spouse who's a liberal, we've got a same-sex couple - - (I mentioned a couple other things that I don't remember) - - the only thing we're missing is that Mom secretly has cancer or something." We all laughed. I didn't notice, nobody noticed, but apparently my parents looked at each other with widened eyes, and then snickered to themselves.

Fast-forward a month later, December 2015. Some of the details are a little hazy, I remember I needed to go to my parents house for some reason or another. I think it may have been to help my brother with something, because he was also driving to my parents house; perhaps we were helping my Dad move something. I can't remember. I just remember that my brother, Tim, and I ended up at my parents house to do something. And when we finished up, my parents called me and Tim into the living room; my Mom said, "I want to talk to you and Tim about how to deal with your sisters..." I didn't know what that meant. It sounded kind of scary, like my parents were planning some kind of intervention or something, but I didn't know for what. So, Tim and I followed them into the living room and sat down.

    I seem to recall there were a few moments of silence. Then suddenly my Mom looked at me burst out, with a chuckle, "You were right!"

    I didn't even need her to explain what she meant. I knew immediately what she meant. Tim, on the other hand was in the dark, he wasn't sure what it meant. So my parents explained Mom's condition. She had been diagnosed with breast cancer in Spring 2014.

    It was very surreal. My brain honestly didn't know how to react. I think I was in shock, because when I did finally react, it was very casual. And I engaged in the conversation like we were just talking about something normal, like Mom was dealing with an average headache or something. But, in actuality, something in me snapped... or was in the process of snapping.

    When the conversation was done and we said our goodbyes, I drove home to my wife in complete silence. I don't even remember thinking anything. My mind was just blank. When I arrived at my apartment and opened the door, I just very casually said something like, "Welp... my Mom's got cancer," to my wife. We talked a little about it, my wife was trying to reassure me that it would be fine, lots of women get breast cancer and are able to beat it. However, her attitude changed, rightly so, when I told her Mom had been "fighting" it for almost two years. And not just that, but she had elected to fight via "alternative medicine" — alternative medicine is a topic which I can barely engage in anymore without physically trembling in anger, so I won't really say anything about this because I know I have many dear friends who have very high opinions of the method, and I know my anger is only a surface-level reaction. She had been fighting with alternative medicine... and she was losing. And apparently she was at a point where there wasn't really anything more to do, either via alternative medicine or medical intervention.

As far as I was concerned, my Mom was a dead woman walking. All the indications were that she had already lost, and now she was basically just waiting to die, barring a miracle from God Himself. That's why just the news that she had cancer was enough to blow my circuits.

We were about to lose the first member of our family. And not only that, but a person who was very dear to me, who had been there for me through just about ever trial and tribulation, who was always there to talk to, who always had the perfect Bible Verse for every situation, who always helped me redirect back towards Christ whenever I felt disappointed by or angry at Him.

I was already in an extremely rough place with my Faith, too. That's what made it even worse. I had felt like my Faith was crumbling over the last couple of years — mostly due to my Anxiety making everything worse, and it caused a lot of problems early on in my marriage with my wife (which is why I will never be able to thank her and appreciate her enough for the patience she exhibited and has continued to exhibit with me). I had been struggling to read my Bible, struggling to pray, struggling to go to church. My Mom was one of the few anchors I had left in the Faith.

So I was being faced with the likelihood that my anchor would soon be cut away.

It's kind of a funny circumstance to remember, but I can recall one of the earliest moments (after my Mom's revelation) that I realized my Anxiety was growing at a rapid pace. My wife and I were at our table eating dinner. The meal? Hot dogs. Now, I love a good hot dog. Always have. But as I sat there eating, something suddenly came into my mind. Memories of things I had read or heard from other people... about how hot dogs, due to their heavy processing, can theoretically cause cancer. My chewing slowed down, and I began to feel waves of panic. I finished eating, but with hesitation.

I also used to eat lunch meat everyday at work, for lunch. Suddenly, I again remembered things I had heard or read that lunch meat was heavily processed and could possibly cause cancer. Suffice it to say, I stopped eating that for lunch everyday.

These were my first indications that something was going wrong in my head.

My realization only increased when I became aware of how tense I would feel whenever Julia would leave the apartment and go for a walk or a drive by herself. What if she gets in a car accident? What if she gets hit by a car? What if she gets raped and murdered?

Even when I, myself, would go for a drive, I distinctly remember suddenly becoming aware of how tightly I was gripping the steering wheel — my wife even remarked on it a couple of times — and how sweaty my palms would get, and overall tense my muscles throughout my body would become. What if we get in an accident? What if the car spontaneously explodes? What if one of the tires explodes and the force of it makes the whole care flip? Yes, these are all very real thoughts that were running through my head.

A few weeks later, I remember reading a News article about someone who had a brain tumor.

The next morning, I woke up with a headache... and I immediately "knew" that I had a brain tumor. This went on for about a week; I was certain I had a tumor.

NOTE: If you're squeamish about body parts, then you might want to skip ahead some, as the next couple paragraphs deal with me being afraid that I had testicular cancer, as well as some details on why I was afraid of that 😂

A few weeks later, I discovered something that I honestly wasn't sure if it had always been like that or not. One of my testicles was much larger than the other. I honestly couldn't remember if it had always been like that or not... But, of course, I made the mistake of Googling the situation. And of course, there was ol' reliable Mayo Clinic, kindly letting me know that I was suffering from "testicular cancer."

I freaked out. I was at work at the time. And I honestly thought I was going to faint. I couldn't even focus on work. I called my doctor and told them I needed to get in to see him immediately. They were able to fit me in for an afternoon visit. I tried to keep working, but I just couldn't focus, so I clocked out and drove to my parents house, where I just vented my anxiety to them. They did their best to calm me, but there wasn't much they could do, of course. My Mom felt bad because she understood that what I was experiencing — my panic attack — was likely being exacerbated by her having told me she had cancer.

    I went to the doctor a couple hours later. Thankfully, I was starting to calm down. I went from panicking about the possibility of testicular cancer... to suddenly feeling very uncomfortable with what I knew was about to happen. I mean... think about it. If you feel like you have testicular cancer, and you're going to a doctor to get checked on... what is the doctor going to need to do? I tried to remain calm and just tell myself that they do this sort of thing all the time, I just needed to be calm and just act normal. It wasn't a big deal. It would be over in a couple seconds. Just don't make it weird.

Well, I'm pretty sure I made it weird. I seem to recall that I was talking, chatting, endlessly. From the moment I unzipped and dropped 'em to when the doctor got up close and personal to when I pulled my pants back up. I feel like I made it almost too casual, if that makes any sense...

Anyway, the doctor said he didn't feel like it was anything to worry about, but if I was really concerned I could go get scanned. I set up an appointment to get scanned, but I never made it to that appointment. The reason why? Well, something kind of weird and funny happened.

At the time, I had a coworker who was also given to Anxiety and other mental illnesses. A couple of days later, we got on the topic of why I went to the doctor's, and when I told him why, he laughed and said, "Dude! The same thing happened to me! I went and got checked up on. Nothing. No answers to why." I couldn't believe it. So, I did a little bit of research, and managed to find information on situations in which a person's Anxiety got so bad, it caused irregularities in the sizes of certain body parts... particularly testicles. Why?? Nobody knows. But, yeah... apparently that's a thing that can happen.

Honestly, that was good enough for me, so I cancelled my next doctor's appointment, and finally started to calm down.

Why am I talking about all of this? It's really just to hammer home the point that... my mental health has declined, very quickly, and put me in a very, very bad place. It has made everything so much more difficult. And I am still limping from that.

And now we get into what I mean by mask-free.

I'm sure this will be of no surprise, but I've been in a constant struggle with God and with Christianity for a few years now. As I said, I've been worn down, worn out, exhausted, stretched thin. And I've learned some things along the way.

And yes, I'll just come out and say it: I am angry with God. I feel like He kicked me (or allowed me to be kicked) while I was already down. I feel like He didn't help me when I needed it. I feel like He betrayed me. I feel like He abandoned me.

But as weird as it sounds... I know I still love Him. I wouldn't feel these feelings as strongly as I do if I didn't love Him.

And let me be clear about something. I make a distinction between Rational Thought and my Emotional Thought. I want you to know that, as far as my Rational Thoughts are concerned, I have always been aware that God did not abandon me. I have always been aware that God has been there every step of the way. I have always been aware that He was doing things behind the scenes that I never even saw. I have always been aware that He has a vantage point that I don't; He sees the complete picture. From my vantage point, all I saw was my Mom taken away from me. But there's so much more to it than that. I know that. And also, if God really is Love, which I believe He is as St. John tells us as much, then that has to mean that there is a good reason why the world works the way it does, and why God works the way He works. Rationally, I understand that, as my Mom always said, God is good and He is trustworthy.

So I don't need anyone to tell me why my fears are wrong. I don't need you to send me self-help books or Bible Verses proving that God is not the betrayer and abandoner (that's not even a word) that I feel He is. Because I know. I do. Rationally, intellectually, I know.

The problem I'm having is syncing my Emotional Thoughts with my Rational Thoughts. They are completely out of sync.

And what I mean about being mask-free is that I want to be open about what my Emotional Thoughts are. Because chances are very good that plenty of other Christians deal with the same thing. But a lot of us are too concerned about being open about it, because there's this fear of judgment. That other Christians will come along and smite us with their Bibles. "You don't talk to God that way! You don't question that! You don't talk about the Church that way!"

Listen, I get it. I get that there is discomfort for many Christians when you hear things like "I am angry at God." Or even "I hate God." It feels uncomfortable and wrong. Because we're talking about the Person who created us, gave us life, and especially the person who gave His Son for us. How dare you say you hate the God-Man who took on your sins and died for you!

Even when I, myself, say or think things like "I'm mad at God," even I feel uncomfortable with it. But at the same time, I say it because I'm being honest. God already knows how I feel. It's not going to do me or Him any good by lying.

Furthermore, Christians feel like they have to protect Him, His honor, His kingliness.

But honestly... I don't believe He needs that. He doesn't need us to protect Him. Because He is more than capable of taking care of Himself. He is not threatened by us, nor can He ever be threatened by us. Or our questions. It just doesn't work that way.

So I would honestly love to see more of a push in the Christian community to help Christians open up about how they feel, even when it is uncomfortable or scary, such as being honest that they hate God.

I will never forget what a dear friend of mine told me once. I have a friend who loves the Lord with all his heart, and (to me) he is a spiritually strong person — though, I know he would disagree with that assessment — and I really look up to him, and I feel envious of his Faith in and love for God. But he told me that he went through a very dark period in his life where he hated God. His life was falling apart. One thing after another. He was practically living on the streets. And he said he very distinctly remembers extending his middle finger to the sky; in essence, flipping off God. I think he may have even said "F*** you!" to God on one (or more occasions). That type of thing is enough to scandalize your average church-goer and make their ears bleed. But he did it. Because he was being honesty with God about what God already knew he was feeling. And God, as He often does, nevertheless, loved him, and blessed him, and helped him turn his life around.

That's how big God is. That is how loving God is. He can endure our fits of rage and anger toward Him. And He will continue to love us, because His love is self-denying. His love is unconditional.

And that's really my point here. I'm not afraid that God is going to strike me down with lightning for saying that I'm angry with Him or questioning Him... because I know He still loves me. I (rationally) understand that He knows what I'm going through. And I (rationally) believe that He is upset for me and the fact that I'm in such a deep dark place. He doesn't want that for me. I don't (rationally) believe God is sitting there, arms crossed, huffing and puffing because I'm just really blowing it. 

So that is one of the main motivations behind this blog. I want a place that I can be real. A place I can explore both my Rational Thoughts about God as well as my Emotional Thoughts about God. Both because I know it will be therapeutic for me, but also because I know there are other Christians out there in a similar boat. They're tired of the mask-wearing, and the tip-toeing, and the extreme caution in what we say. We want something real. We want to be real. Instead of just going along and acting like everything is fine, while being miserable beneath the surface.

So that's my intention with this blog. I want to explore and talk about my own emotional struggles and questions, in regards to God, in regards to the Bible, in regards to the Church, in regards to Politics and American Christianity. AS WELL AS explore and talk about my rational thoughts and questions in regards to God, the Bible, the Church, Politics and American Christianity.

Maybe this will go places, maybe it won't. But either way, I feel like I've got nothing to lose by trying.