Where is your faith?

Tonight was my first night back at a church. I listened to a guest speaker, and I can't remember his name unfortunately. I won't ever forget his sermon. It's as though it was made for me. I was meant to be here tonight.

"Stay alert! Watch out for your great enemy, the demon. He prowls around like a roaring lion looking for those he can devour." 1 Peter 5:8

Like a lion. Like a snake in the grass. He prowls looking for those who CAN BE devoured. We cannot let ourselves be vulnerable to him. He will do anything to break our conduits to God. He attacks our family. Our health. And us, through our friends. By allowing ourselves to blame God, for the demon's trials, we give the demon the upper hand.

Renounce your anger towards God.
Let faith flow into you like a river.
Be fearless in your faith.

The speaker, he told of a woman from his Ministry in Africa.
She lived in a muslim village, and she became Saved. She turned to God.
She was taken by 3 men to a near by pond, beaten. And held under water.
She said  "I became as a fish. My God came and took death from the water. I should have drowned."
The men left her, thinking her dead.
She said "I lay there for hours. Then  God came and gave me strength.
She walked back into the village, and told of the Gospel.
Undeniable, unshaken faith.
FEARLESS


Another story from the speaker.
This married couple had tried for years to have a baby. Miscarried countless times. Upon coming to Christ, they became pregnant. The woman started to lose the baby. The church gathered, and lay hands on her stomach, praying. She went full term.
In the hospital, she lay on a cot in a room full of 30 women on similar cots. The man was not allowed in. She gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. None of the nurses helped the woman. None of the other women in the room helped the woman. The baby boy drowned in the fluids.
Anger engulfed the speaker. But not the man. The man took his wife home, lay her in bed, and sat in his living room amongst his weeping family and the speaker...
And he prayed. He said to God, "I know this wasn't you. I don't blame you. I do not hold it against the people. All I ask is for you to heal  my wife's body. And to get us through this."
Unshaken faith.
Unconditional faith.

Now, this couple has a healthy young daughter.
 Renouncing anger is among the hardest things for humans to do. But not impossible.
Never forget that we were called to that Higher Standard.
Rise above.


Thank you for your time...
And God bless.

Renouncing anger

Break it.
I can't live this way anymore.
I sit wrapped in a hatred that corrodes my soul.
I've given this rage away, now. Because I realize I cannot handle it on my own.

I have fought this all alone for too long now. I let myself slip away from my creator. I let myself become jaded after being overcome with my seizures, losing my grandmother, losing my aunt, losing my father, and my uncle. I broke my own rules.
"Never question that which God allows"
It's not easy, and never was meant to be.

Time for change.
I need my savior now, more than ever.
We'll call this step number one.

Thank you for your time.
Do something for someone today. Tell them you love them.

A New Breed of Hatred... A New Form of Love

Love and hate will always exist. One cannot love without the opposite. If you outstandingly disagree to the point of chastisement, then politely excuse yourself by clicking the red x on the top right corner.

I love.
I love my future wife despite our disputes. She is my glue in the midst of the most trying years of my life. As i made the true jump from boy to man, she stood beside me even when i was undeserving. I love my family. They're the backbone. The fortification. Even though we are dropping off from earth like flies.

On February 8th at 1235 in the morning I learned the truest and strongest form of love. Olivia was and is the most beautiful being I have laid eyes on. Any given day. Even the worst. Her smiles and sounds can put me at peace. When she hurts, I feel an emotional line to her that is indescribable. I would give anything to remove the pain or discomfort. Even if it meant to hurt and feel 1000000 tenfold what she was. I love her with a great passion burning deep in my soul.
I love my friends. As much as any friend can. I can never forget my brothers. My comrades. My partners in crime throughout my highschool and college years.

With love, walks hatred. As white does with black.
I hate spiders. I hate dumb drivers. I hate sharks.
I hate that I am afraid.
Though fear is my great ally.
I hate my admission of fears.
This morning I sit in the sunshine state hundreds of miles from my heart, and I am filled with hate. A new real hatred. Through my life I have never seen this form of evil. This morning I think of my uncle Rick's death. And his poor pathetic weeping widow. I'm glad I wasn't present to see the dollar signs I. Her eyes as soon as my uncle left this world. She scrambled as soon as he had passed to make damn sure she sold everything that was willed to my father. She knew damn well who Rick's belongings were to go to For sentimental reasons. She forced him to live in a small room across the house from her. She kept 10 cats in the house. My uncle was highly allergic to them. He gave everything he had for her. His weapons. His dog even. And in the end his dignity. He slept in a doorless room on a matress laid on the floor. Covered in cat hair. His clothes were found soaked in cat urine. She called everyone after he passed. Not to inform people about his death. But to see if they had any of his weapons. She drove to ricks former home and store house and stole from my father. Taking the sentimental things for monetary gain. Her church paid for her gas. My uncle received little more than a salute at his funeral. She would have had us arrested if we attended. She drained my uncle of everything he had. He was a generous and giving soul. I will always cherish the times we went out shooting. Even then he was so generous. Loading magazine after magazine cylinder after cylinder. I'll never forget when he loaded up a .44 bulldog and said, "you know that this is going to be your gun when you get a little older. "
That was only 3 years ago.
Today I was told that the gun he was shot with was the very same gun.
I have much more to say. But it isn't for the public. It dives into more personal and confidential matters that would violate the wishes of many. This is only the very tip of the iceberg. While Rick was surrounded by good friends, he lived with a lying thieving two faced demon.
Wether Rick's death was indeed a suicide, an accident, or a murder will forever remain a mystery. As much as I would like to act on my hatred, my vengeful days are at an end. God must sort this out. I can not. The legal system will not.
I realize that no amount of vengeance can restore what has been lost.
Nothing can bring my uncle back.
This burning hatred for her actions will remain.
Rest in peace, uncle Rick.

Thank you for your time.

"Fear. Fear attracts the fearful… the strong… the weak… the innocent… the corrupt. Fear. Fear is my ally."

"one day you will burn for your decisions and what you did with your life. So live it up now. For only the dead have seen the end of this world."

Final Letter to a Long Lost Father

Sha Awa 
It’s taken me quite some time to be able to sit down and write my “final words” to you… Truthfully, I kind of allowed myself that wild hope for your recovery, and even to speak with you again. But  I knew in my heart that I wouldn’t make it in time. 
This past weekend, I spent a lot of time with your family. They are all great people, and I want you to know that I will keep in contact with them. I know that you would have wanted that. Cierra will still have a brother, I promise you that. 
I’ve also heard a lot of stories about you, and the more I hear, the more I realize how similar we are in attitude. Its odd, that I grew up without ever knowing you, yet duplicated so many of your mannerisms. 
It’s really difficult for me to say goodbye. This world truly is cruel. After years upon years of curiosity, agonizing questions, and mystery of my biological father, I finally connected with you… Only to lose you, yet again. There simply wasn’t enough time to receive the answers to life’s questions. And I think that’s what I’m struggling with the most. The lack of time spent with you. 
I wish you would have lasted long enough to see your Grand daughter. (Good call by the way.) She loves you, and dances when I tell her your stories. I wish you had the chance to meet Monica, too. She asked about you often, and wanted to travel with me, badly. 
I miss you. I still haven’t allowed myself to let it sink in that I wont hear you speak again. Or hear you sing your songs. See you dance. Or get the chance to get in the ring with you. 
You’re still the greatest mystery in my life. There were so many things that I still needed to know. So many questions I still had. I’m very thankful for the time we were given together. But it still seems as if it were a single painting in what should have been a gallery. 
If I tried for the rest of my life, I don’t think I could forget the two weeks we spent together. You, and the stories I have from our time will live on. When my daughter, Phoenix is old enough, I’ll tell her about you. And I’m sure she will always cherish the Rattle you made for her. 
Thank you for everything, Sha Awa. I hope you’re having a big time Hunting with the Old people. I’m sure I’ll see you there one day. Until then, you’ll know where to find me. 


With love, 


Drew Ward Persinger. 

Maybe a Greyhound Could Be My Way

The death of my biological father is not a shock. 
As much as he tried to sugar coat it for me, and say he was just sick, I knew he was dying. 
2 summers ago when Daniel and I went out there to L.A. to see him, he would frequently excuse himself from us, and vomit black blood. 
We all knew it was coming. As sure as the sun falls at night, we all must die. 
The only problem I'm having is wondering what to feel.
I know I'm kind of alone in this. Not many have been through my exact situation. 
It's like reading only book 2 of a 3 part series. He wasn't present for 18 years of my life, but for the past few, he had become a great friend of mine. 
You read that correctly. I view Sha Ahwa, Phillip, my biological father as a good friend. He was a much better friend to me than a parent. Don't get bent, don't get offended. That's just how it is. 


He held a thousand secrets, that I'll never know now. And I think I'm ok with that. 


I was hoping to fly out, to be there for the family in the wake of the tragedy. Unfortunately we were unable to afford it. It's looking like if I do go out there, it will be via Greyhound. Whirl wind adventure, here I come. 

Thank you for your Time. 


Dwp

Always a skeptic

I miss simplicity!
Back when the most I ever had to worry about was what my schedule at work next week was gonna be. 
I have a lot riding on my shoulders. And I think I am just now grasping the concept that I will have another living being depending upon me to feed them, clothe them, love them, care for them, change their dirty diapers, make sure they have a roof over their head, and ultimately raise them. 
I'm up to the challenge, clearly. I haven't run. I haven't tried to weasel my way out of it. And I wont. Ever. 
But reader, to be honest. I am very afraid.
I just hope things can change for the better. That my family problems straighten out. So she doesn't grow up in a broken house hold. 
I miss relaxation. Being care free. I know that will never happen again. 


I'll keep it moving along. 
I'll be fine. One way or another.


I just hope I can be better... 


Thanks for your time

Like the winter trees reach for the heavens...

Writing has always been a hobby of mine. Publicly displaying my emotions, trials, and errors has always been a fear. 
Guess it's time to step up. 
I'm falling apart this season. I'm not too great at revealing my inner thoughts, they're mostly dark. I don't like people feeling sorry for me. I don't ask for sympathy. I just want someone to listen. Every day my mind gets darker. My temper grows. 
My biological father is dying. I didnt know him for 16 years. In the past 4 I've been in contact with him, and even gone out to Los Angeles and seen him. It's tearing me up because there are still immense painful questions I cannot have answered. I can't talk to my family about it because they despise him. 
Thanksgiving has just passed. We were missing two from last year. My beloved Grandmother Bard in December of 2010. And her daughter, my aunt and former english teacher Gay Bard passed in April. My grandfather, Bubba, is in the hospital now, and could go any day. 
My fiance and I have a daughter on the way. She'll be here Feb 5 of 2011. I love her already, but it adds more stress. 
Stress. I don't really show it. But it weighs heavily. 
I work 2 jobs. Don't get much of any time. When I do, its stressful even more so. 
I guess it's just the way things have to be for now.
Just listen. 
Get to know me. 
By my thoughts alone. 


Thanks for your time.