Faith & Peace & Chicken Grease

Faith.

A believe in the things unseen.  I believe hope is nearly the same thing.

For me, if I put hope into something it's because I truly care about it.  And if it doesn't happen, then a little piece of me dies.  Hope for me seems within my grasp.  As if it's nearly close enough to reach out and touch.

Faith, on the other hand, is more like a shot in the dark.  There's too many possibilities of what the result may be.  Like that ad that states..."results may vary".  That's faith for me.  Knowing that there are so many variables causes me to not place hope, but rather faith.  My faith is much less than my hope.

This may be wrong.  Perhaps it's backwards.  But it's what I do.

Faith is something that Bible speaks of.  The unseen.  A trust that God is real and one day he will return for his believers.  I allowed myself to put faith into my motion in the court.  I put hope in my child growing to become a great adult.  My child will break my heart if I ever see her fall.  My denied motion did not break me.  Instead, what I did was immediately plan for a longer stay.  That doesn't mean accepting this world behind this fence.  Rather accepting that I have to live, sleep and dwell here for another five or so years.

I will continue to work out.  That's a must.  When I walk out of here I will gladly leave this life behind.  However, the only thing I will take is ME.  My body and it's health is a must for me.  I have plans, and I need to be one in-shape  40-year-old dude.  I'm sure that there will be many more lessons for me in hope and faith.  Over these past years I have learned to stand tall.

There are too many people out there who fall down.  I'm talking about letting your boss walk all over you and take advantage of your time.  Calling you in on a weekend when you are supposed to have it off.  Instead of telling him/her no, you show up but wear a chip on your shoulder.  Or that family member who tells you that you are overweight and your house is a mess.  You act like you don't hear them, but when your home you cry your eyes out.  Then you have the men that take their upset home and abuse their wife and kids.  The man who is not man enough to stand up to his boss, but takes it out on his wife when he gets home.  She and the kids become the verbal punching bag.  In some cases it's even physical.

Prison has changed that for me.  Push me and I'll shove you back.  What you gonna do?  Call the cops?  Press charges?  Look where I live.  Some of you out there need to do the same.  Learn to tell the person you have the problem with about how they make you feel.  Don't take that shit home with you.  Your home is suppose to be your palace.  Your sanctuary.  Your zen place of peace.

That's how I have to do the next five or so years.  Find that little happy place and hold onto it.  Never let it go.  Thank you all for helping me do my time through your participation in the Jailbird project.