By admin
hmmm….? Not sure where to start this one, I was hoping to do this one by video but the software I ordered is taking its sweet time in the mail. So, I expect at least a million “likes” for this entry since I’m tediously tapping away at individual keys to share with you all.
Wait… I have to go double check I didn’t leave the garage door up (possibly causing one of my pastor’s belongings to be borrowed w/out consent) *time lapse…….Cool, its closed.
Anywho I felt a bit compelled to share how interesting this experience has been. For those out of state & few international subscribers, I just crashed my “bike”. Not bike as in 12mph top speed, I feel no need to use such infantile terms as scooter or motorbike so it is a bike that tops 80mph, final! (Cory H.). I’d like to write about the psychological and spiritual realities of my one arm experience but that will have to wait, one hand typing is so much slower. So I’ll share some of the funnies, starting first with a picture of the best thing hospitals have to offer (well aside from care and delivering new humans and such)… Read more »
By admin
I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: “I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept His claim to be God.” That is the one thing we must not say. A man who said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic–on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg–or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.
-C.S. Lewis “Mere Christianity”
Perspective:Liar, Lunatic, Lord; what’s your choice?
By admin
Thus says the Lord: “Heaven is My throne, And earth is My footstool. Where is the house that you will build Me? And where is the place of My rest?
2 For all those things My hand has made, And all those things exist,” Says the Lord. “But on this one will I look: On him who is poor and of a contrite spirit, And who trembles at My word.
(Isaiah 66:1,2)
After yesterdays writing An Identity Discovered in Love (read it) I continued to dwell on the concept of Christians and how we sometimes try and make up for lost time through sacrifice. When we feel we have missed a mark of some sort we attempt to reach it through works as to appease God or in most cases our own consciences. I have been guilty at times of doing this almost in a self inflicting type of way. However this morning I just began to reflect on how much God desires the substance of our hearts beyond the ceremonial processions. It seems so easy within our American culture to be connected in routine yet disconnected in heart. In a country where self interest seems to reign supreme in the scope of “the American dream”, in order to get to our next goal we turn those around us into obstacles to reach the next rung up towards personal success. Read more »
By admin
Last night I got to work and set up for the rest of the night. I usually listen to music or the scriptures so I made a playlist of the book of Matthew and Romans. Before I could even put my head phones on I just kept hearing over and over in my head “The beauty of a good conscience”… I just began to dwell on the thought of having a clear conscience devoid of condemnation or failures and how incredible it is. All of a sudden I just felt the need to read 1 Timothy and about 5 verses in I knew why I was lead there. In verse 5 Paul writes to Timothy,
“Now the purpose of the commandment is love from a pure heart, from a good conscience, and from sincere faith” Read more »
By admin
To most the idea of living alone doesn’t necessarily make them jump for joy but for me it gives me a feeling of overwhelming gratefulness. My past history with housing situations has been filled with more tragedy than triumph and to finally be able to come into my own place and throw my keys on the couch means a lot to me. The simplicity of locking my door or leaving my jeans on the bedroom floor put a smile on my face after a long night of work. I tend to be grateful for the smallest things sometimes, but many times its because I understand how it feels to not have those things. I have moved so many times in my life sometimes I contemplate if its a curse. Since I was young I have had to wrestle with feelings of displacement and being a burden to someone else.
In the beginning… (j.k.) From the jump, and I say it proudly “I was born in the PJ’s”. For those not accustomed to urban terminology the pj’s mean, “da projects!!”(you have to say “da” not “the”). Ahh (*sigh) the projects: broken elevators, pee, tobacco, and liquor bottles in the stairways, chain-locks and radiators, Chipped paint, loud music, doors slamming, and roaches curling. Not sure how long I stayed in the pj’s as a baby but I grew up in and out of them my entire childhood. From the pj’s, me, my mom and brothers moves around a lot. Next I remember staying at grandma’s house (my favorite place). Getting to play outside til the street lights came on or until grandma would stand at the door and call us in to eat, “Danny, Sharky, Travis, come eat babies.” Everybody was grandma’s baby, she’d smack the black off you if you talked back, but let somebody else put they’re hands on you and grandma would go ape and jump to your defense. Grandma’s house was the most stable place I knew growing up, plus the only place that guaranteed a free meal for a growling stomach, unfortunately things didn’t stay that way. We would move into our first real apartment from grandma’s due to it being overcrowded and my mom striving for her independence.
We moved into a little basement Apartment on Jefferson St., 2 bedrooms 1 bathroom and of course a kitchen. That apartment was rough I tell you, seemed like everything was made of concrete even the walls. We moved in with some bags of clothes, couple bags of food, and nothing more, (I remember eating nothing but oven biscuits for like 2 weeks:) ). Actually our first piece of furniture was delivered via the trash across the street. My mother spotted a mattress in the garbage across the street and me and my brothers muscled it in suppressing our shame as best as we could. My mom cleaned & bleached the mattress, put some sheets on it and our family of 4 slept like sardines on that small mattress. I was hoping to just give a brief recap of some of the misfortunes I have had with living conditions but I feel like I’m writing an auto biography, so “I’ll try” to shorten my living history.
Nonetheless, my family has struggled big time with housing. Eviction notices are nothing new to me and my brothers and sleeping on other peoples floors and couches was a common occurrence for a time. From staying with relatives and friends, sleeping overnight in a high school cafeteria, Motels & hotels, more floors, office buildings, hallways, shelters, and even a car. I feel like I have slept everywhere, so to come into my own apartment, lock the door behind me and throw my keys on the couch that is a big deal for me! Its a big deal because I remember not being able fall asleep as I rested my head on a hard wood lunch table in the local high school cafeteria. I remember the thought of the shame I’d feel if my friends knew I had just slept in the cafeteria. That night I stayed up wrote a rap and somehow I still remember it. I stayed up and questioned God in anger and hurt, “why me and why this struggle!?” I remember staying up and writing the title “Struggle” at the top of the paper. This is all I remember of that rhyme (*I Didn’t know the Lord at this time so yeah I cusrsed)
“It’s like I’m stuck in this rubble/ my life is a struggle/ tryin to stay outa trouble/find the pieces to this puzzle/ that I call life/ life’s a gamble/ like eggs man my life is scrambled/ All over in bits and pieces/ I’m tryin to stay straight just like creases/ get love like nefs and nieces/ I feel like S*&t like my name was feces/ this same d@3$ cage just like a hamster/ the same two step just like a dancer S@%6 is hard/ where the F&%$ is the Answers!!”
Actually kinda scary writing that out after so long, I was probably about 13 or 14 at the time and don’t worry since then I have wrote better rhymes I promise 
. Naw, but jokes aside I wrote that out of my frustration and hurt. I was mad at God, and I was mad at life for giving me a losing deck of cards. I was mad at my father for walking out and loving drugs more than me, I was just mad. This writing is going away from my original purpose but it feels good right now so I will continue. I think at that point of my life I decided I really didn’t care about life and I would just live with no convictions or conscience. After this night I remember chilling with my boys more and going to house parties more frequent. In the course of those few months I had started smoking black & mild cigars and I started smoking weed as well.
I was hanging out with older friends who took pleasure in spilling innocent blood so I joined in on a chance to beat up and rob some drunk guy for fun. It seemed my disappointments, hurts, and struggles were fuel for the fire of my anger and I entered a self destructive stage of life, physically and mainly mentally. I seared my conscience in a lot of areas so even til this day the Lord is healing me of the things of my past and consistently giving me fresh Perspectives.One of those areas I’m learning is my ability to be in a crowd of people and laugh and joke yet still feel alone, or to committed to relationships physically yet remain emotionally and mentally detached to avoid hurt.
Nonetheless, the good thing is I drowned the old Travis and I’ve been reborn in mind and spirit. Some of this in part is why I go by Travis Thomas although I am still legally Travis York (boo). I’m pretty sure after I publish this entry I’ll think, “why did I do that?”, but its just real. I pride myself on being real with people and I believe that allows them to share so much of their lives and secrets with me. So I’m done for now, and grateful to be sitting on my couch in my apartment sharing my life with whoever reads this. Trust me I have a life story for everything so feel free to ask me anything and I may write an entry addressing your question. God is truly good and I could not have accomplished anything without His saving grace and intervention in my life.
