No, this not a derogatory slam on the beautiful state of Nebraska, just a metaphor to paint a picture. For those that know me, know that I can not tell a story without using metaphors. It just comes natural, or at least it seems right at the time. Well, you will be happy to know that for over a year I spent night after night in the woods by a campfire with a psychotic man, or at least I thought so at the time, teaching me how to have a relationship with Jesus Christ throught, yep, metaphors. Kinda ironic I know. It was at this place that I first encountered, my life up to this point, as a drive through Nebraska.
Through all the tv shows that we have seen from the medical aspect of life, there is one image that we have all had driven in our head, a flat line on a cardiac monitor relates to death. What does this have to do with Nebraska? Well Nebraska is beautiful, but flat. Spend a night driving down a major road or interstate and you will soon start to realize what Im saying. There is nothing there, its a boring and mundane drive. It doesnt take alot of skill or energy to drive a flat straight line.
With that tired and bored image engraved in your mind, flip the script and relate it to life. At the time I came to that strange place with that psychotic man teaching me weird metaphors about God, Nebraska is exactly where I had been living. My only focus was on me; my problems, my solutions, wants and desires. I had no real quality of life. Hell, I was just down right miserable. Seperated from God and the ones I loved, I was for all intents and purposes, dead. I was, as the title suggests, The Walking Dead. My life was in asystole, flat lined, no signs of life. I was just on cruise control, driving through Nebraska. Everyday was the same. I had nothing to look forward to when I woke up every morning. Just living in the hell that I had created.
Oh and let me interject something here. Never ever say that it couldn't get any worse. I am a very tenacious man when I want to be and at that point in my life I was very tenacious about my own self destruction. That being said, that same tenacity also applies when devoted to something healthy, well, when I want it bad enough. One thing about be emotionally and spiritually dead, your body is soon to follow. In a self defining moment, after having reality shoved down my throat, I looked around and said, my God, what has happened to me. Better yet, how do I fix this? The answer came in like a sledge hammer, just like God himself were setting beside me. "You cant fix this, but I can!" So, at that point, I said ok. Well actually it was more like, ok I will give you 90%. So in my endeavor to devote my life to God, well 90% of it anyway, I discovered God has a sick sense of humor... Almost to the point to where I could hear him saying in a southern slang, "Hey ya'll, watch this." So after a series of, standing in the middle of an intersection looking up and shouting, "SERIOUSLY" moments, God and I got down to a serious negotiation. It was more like a small child ordered to clean their room, and just shoving the junk under the bed or in the closet. I mean I thought it ws good, but nooooooo, he wanted it all, not 90%, not even 99%. I mean he was serious, he wanted ALL of me.
Finally it hit me, he couldn't fix me until he had full control. Even at 1% I would still manage to screw it up. So, it was done. I was all in. Little did I know that meant being dropped off in the ghetto. Picture that, a black BMW pulling up to a place in the ghetto, to drop the prodical son off. Yep, another SERIOUSLY GOD, moment. But this time I listened. If this is where he led me then so be it. Lets do this. Little did I know that within a few days I was about to visit the set of Deliverence, and meet the psychotic counselor that would change my life forever. Gods definately got a sense of humor. Just glad I listened.
