Lazarus my brother

Good morning journal,it is now 4:28am.I was awoken from my rest at 3:40am,my body contorted into unnatural angles by a fit of coughing that wracked me from head to toe,and left me drained by the time I managed to catch a breath.My chest rose and fell with effort as my heart endeavored to kick start my lungs to life,until finally,I was able to rise unsteadily to my feet and head for the kitchen,assuring my concerned wife that I would be fine,I let her return to her dreams and started my day by making that vital first mug of coffee that all of us night owls require as fuel.As I sit here now,I can feel my stomach cramping,and threatening to erupt with the dry heaving that I have become so familiar with.My body trembles with the effort of trying to breathe slowly,normally,whilst I wait for my inhaler to take full effect,as I know it will,it takes a little time;I have time,so I sit, and I will continue my ramblings in a while.It is now 5:17am,and I am recovered enough to resume my writing,my inhaler has served it's purpose,and I am left once more with a feeling of intense gratitude for my little friend who travels with me everywhere.I mentioned Lazarus at the beginning of this morning's diatribe,for I identify closely with the man returned to life by Jesus Christ.Reminiscing into my past,I am reminded of the time I found God,or He found me,I'm not completely sure who found who if truth be told.I remember,it had been a night of partaking of much hard liquor,and though I remember very little of the night in question;I remember with unerring recall,the events of the morning afterwards.I awoke in a strange place,not unusual for me back then,but this was different;I lay on a stone surface with a raised end,I found out later that it served a purpose as a bed with the raised end being the pillow.I was in a police cell,my head pounding with what seemed like the cacophony of a thousand cannon firing simultaneously,and a mouth as dry as tinder.I remember the door being opened and a police sergeant entered bearing a huge plastic mug of,what I was to discover momentarily,lukewarm coffee.
                                                He handed the aforementioned coffee to me and sat opposite on the toilet pedestal and looked at me,"how do you feel laddie?",he asked in a broad highland brogue.He was much older than myself,me being a young man at the time,I replied that I felt like the proverbial brown stuff and apologized that I appeared to have eaten the station cat during the night,if the inside of my mouth,in texture and taste,was accurate.He chuckled softly and said,"well laddie,I don't know what demons you have in your soul,but john barleycorn isn't the answer";I then found myself relating to him my life story to date.Out came details of my daughter's death,my singing career,my father's death by drowning when I was just shy of four years old;the whole shebang.He listened intently,his chin resting on the enormous bear-like paw that served as a hand,and nodded as I finished."Aye laddie,you've been through the mill a bit it's true,but salvation and sanctuary aren't beyond ye yet",then,rising from his seat,he exited the small cell and returned a moment later clutching a book.Proffering it to me he said,"In this great book laddie,I found sanctuary,for I was a young man once just like you,and I had my own demons to wrestle;but in my sanctuary,I found,in time,the greatest gift of all;I found salvation,and my earnest prayer to my Savior Jesus Christ my Lord this morning,is that He,in His own time and according to His will,might grant to you the self same sanctuary and salvation He so freely gave to me".
                  Handing me his bible,for I later learned that to be the case,he directed me to turn to where a man called Lazarus lay in his tomb while his family lamented his death outside.When Jesus heard of their sorrow He called to Lazarus to come out of the darkness and into the light;and Lazarus rose from the dead and walked from his tomb to be reunited with his family.I looked at the police sergeant with an expression of bafflement,my brain still clouded by the alcohol imbibed the night before;"be like Lazarus laddie",said the sergeant,"come out of the darkness son,you've a purpose in the world,and it's your right to be here,God does not manufacture defective goods,stand in the light as His perfect image and wait for Him to tell ye why your here";he then took me to the door of the station,and we stood gazing at the sunshine together."Go and live laddie,your demons are a sore burden to bear I know,but if ye remain in the light,He'll always know where to find ye";taking me by the hand then,he refused my offer to return his bible,he left me,I had no charge to answer,he let me off with a caution and a fatherly smile.Thank you sergeant MacAllan,you have contributed much to the complicated system of emotions,beliefs,and internal wiring that make me the man I am today.
                                                                                                                  Through the years since,I have experimented with many differing types of religion and faiths;but I always return to the simple manner which sergeant MacAllan conducted his worship and belief,I am a Christian,just like him,and I believe,like him,in a loving Savior who gave His life for me so long ago that I might live; and on that final day of judgement,He will come for me and take me by the hand to eternal peace and salvation in His Father's house for evermore.Till that time,I will endeavor to walk in the footsteps my Lord makes for me each new day,not in shadow as I once did,but always in the light.I am at peace with me journal,let us travel through this day together once again,until we meet tomorrow here,with new adventures to put to words.

Replies

higginsp
higginsp

What a lovely entry to your journal. I was saved at 16, after turning away from salvation for many years. God whispered my name early in my life, but I stubbornly and steadfastly refused to walk down that aisle and acknowledge him before the congregation. I was extremely shy and reserved then, preferring to disappear into walls and furniture if my name was even mentioned. I was what they call \"painfully shy\". I couldn\'t imagine the embarrassment of walking down that aisle before a whole congregation!

In the summer of my 16th year, a friend invited me to see a movie, which was made by the Billy Graham team. I don\'t remember the name of the movie, but I remember Johnny Crawford was in it; and, having a huge crush on this young man who was a popular actor in America at the time, he was the only reason I chose to go. By the end of the movie, I was in tears, overcome by the Holy Spirit and hardly believing I had fought so long and hard to hide from Him. When an invitation was given, I proudly walked down the aisle and accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior, overcome with tears and emotion. The next day at church, I again proudly walked down the aisle, my head held high, reaffirming what had happened to me the previous day at the movie. That was 46 years ago, but I still remember it like yesterday. Your post brought back that warm memory of so long ago, still so very fresh in my mind. Thank you for sharing your experience. God bless you!
bjrapp2020
bjrapp2020

Each of your journal entries are so well written and worded it is as if I am reading a book. I know the stories are real, as you are real, and your pain and agony is real, so this may seem out of place, but you have so much talent!!! I am sorry so many things are going wrong for you, but want you to know that the way you express yourself in your journal brings it to life , up close and personal, for all who read it. God bless you my friend...