Saint-Prologue pt.1

Been working on this story for a while. There's alot more to it than the one I began sharing. Don't know if anyone will enjoy it, but here it is:

This is Hell. A city run by crooks and killers. A world all on its own. It was enough to make the most jaded man sick. The Lake, as most people called it, was the stain of it all. The city itself, Purgatory, was bad enough. The Lake was worse. It was positioned in the direct center of the city. The drug deals, clubs, and crooked business men kept it busy. Johnny O’Dell sat himself on the roadside, on top of his old Harley, surveying the scene before him. One prostitute from a group of many talked to someone in a car from the sidewalk. A young man, no older than 20, came stumbling out of a bar, vomiting on the side of the road. The bar sat on the corner of two streets. Down the road that ran perpendicular, Johnny spotted a couple in a dark corner making out and feeling each other up. There was no shame in these people. Across the street from the bar was a club, simply called The Hole. A nest for junkies and drunks to get there jollies with experimental drugs and drinks that were harder than a kick in the head. Tonight, this was Johnny’s target.
He got up from his bike. He was young, but still domineering. His brownish-red hair and freckles around his nose gave him a somewhat boyish look, but years of weight lifting and physical combat training turned his body into an absolute machine. He wasn’t bulked out by any means, but he had cut to him. His hair was slicked back, and he wore designers clothing. a leather biker jacket, T-shirt, jeans, and leather shoes. Just another rich kid going into The Hole to get some kicks. He walked across the street and when he reached the sidewalk was hailed by one of the prostitutes nearby.
“You lookin’ for a good time big guy?”
Johnny just smiled as if he would take her up on her offer once he was finished. He opened the door to the club and found nothing less than what he expected. An overly loud rock band preformed on stage, ironically called Overkill. To his right was a long bar where women sat with short skirts and low cut blouses while lusting dumbstruck guys bought them drinks and said everything they could to get them home. To his left, roped off from the rest of room, was a table and chair area. From where Johnny was by the door he could see friends sitting at tables together sniffing coke and taking acid. Between him and the stage was a mass of sweaty bodies pressing in to each other in a mosh pit. Johnny looked up, a balcony section surrounded the entire perimeter. This is where the big boys would be. The Lake may have been for low lives, but that didn’t stop any of Purgatory’s elite to join the evening festivities.
Johnny spotted a hidden set of steps directly to his left, tucked behind the tables and chairs set up. He walked over, no one gave him a second glance. At the bottom of the stairs stood a hulking figure. Typical security type. Bald, hawk like nose, biceps the size of tree trunks.
“Can I help you?” He asked in an unnaturally low voice.
“I’m just going up to see a friend.” Johnny tried to walk his way past, but the guard put a large hand on his chest and pushed him back.
“Sorry.” He said with a sadistic smile.
“Sorry what?”
“Invitation only.”
“I’m just going up to hang with a friend of mine, is that an issue?”
“No. No issue. That’s just the rule. Sorry chump.” The guard gave Johnny a hard tap on his cheek.
Now there’s an unspoken rule between guys, one push is excusable, two pushes you get a warning, three…You get what you ask for.
“You better keep an eye on what you’re doing with that hand.” Johnny said.
“Or what?” He tapped his cheek again and said in a baby voice “You gonna go to work on me witto man?”
Johnny clenched a fist and let it fly straight into the man’s temple knocking him out cold.
“I warned you not to touch me again.” Johnny added as he walked up the stairs.
At the top of the stairs a bar ran along the wall. Directly ahead were several round tables with leather seats. A short distance away sat a small man in a three piece suit surrounded by two women and nearly a half dozen bodyguards, not counting any that may be sitting at nearby tables. Johnny strode over stopping directly behind a laughing body guard with a huge cigar. The small man looked up from his drink and glared. Johnny tapped the bodyguard on his shoulder. The body guard turned and was slammed in the side of his head with a fist. The rest of the bodyguards on the balcony flew up from their seats pulling guns out from inside jacket pockets. Before they could make a move Johnny had two guns pulled out and aimed directly at the small man.
“I just want to talk.” He said.
The small man just stared as if he had nothing to fear.
“Tell them to put their guns down and sit or I blow your head off.”
He made a small motion with his hand and all the bodyguards slowly put away their guns and sat, their eyes still trained on Johnny. Johnny brought his guns down, kicked the unconscious bodyguard to the floor and sat down.
“I hope you have a plan out of here.” The man said with a high voice.
“I didn’t come to kill you.”
“Really? You just came to take people out and point a gun at my head so….What? You can talk?”
“I came to show you people aren’t scared anymore. You’re days are numbered. One day you’re going to die.”
“So…You came here to warn me, or threaten me?” The man said with a smirk.
Johnny saw a slight movement to his right and got up from his seat.
“Go ahead, leave. I’ll give you, I don’t know, five seconds before my guys fire at you. Go.”
Johnny’s eyes shifted around remembering where he had seen all the other bodyguards. The music thundered. The bass thumping through the room threatening to impede his senses. They were making their move. quick as lightening Johnny whipped his gun up shooting six successive shots in a row to the bodyguards immediately nearby. The two girls began screaming uncontrollably over the sound of the music. But Johnny couldn’t hear them. The music had become the flow and adrenaline in his veins, giving him rhythm, and reason. He flung his arms to opposite sides of the room firing at body guards spread out across the balcony. The small man was gone before anyone could find him. Once Johnny had ran out his magazines he made a mad dash for the balcony rail and threw himself over the side. The music had stopped but it was still buzzing through him like Nos being pushed in a gas line. Johnny landed on a table breaking off its legs and fell hard to the floor, but he didn’t even think. Before he had time to register any kind of pain he rolled to his feet and ran to the door. People everywhere were screaming. A man ran in front of him winding up a punch, Johnny curled his fingers and thumb into a C and jab him in the throat before he could swing, crushing his trachea. Another one came and Johnny delivered a hard left hook to his jaw, and a kick in his gut hard enough to make him vomit. Johnny punched the door open and ran as fast as he could across the street to his bike.
With the music still surging in his veins and the air burning his lungs he threw one leg over the bike, kick started, popped the clutch and flew down the road. There was muscle behind him, that he knew, though he didn’t know how. He took a sudden left down an open alley. He caught another opening to the right and took it, maneuvering the bike in a way he never thought he could. The music still surged. He couldn’t shake it. He could only keep one thought in his head, get out, get out, get out! The alley let out to a four lane highway that separated the lake and the rest of the city. Johnny swerved his bike around, hard to left, his tires screeching in protest. Several cars came to a screeching halt, horns piercing the night air. Shouts of profanity and middle fingers shot out from open windows. The adrenaline, the music, and the intensity were too much. Johnny was beginning to panic. He took a quick breath and quickly closed his eyes in an effort to relax. In the second he closed his eyes everything suddenly became clear. A complete calm returned. Every street of the impossibly large city forced themselves into his mind, and he saw an upcoming exit. When his eyes opened he could not see the exit, but he knew it was there. He made a right and took it. The exit let out on a back road that led back into the city.
Johnny spent some time driving. The music was fading, nearly gone. He had calmed down some now. The darkness closed in, enveloping him with peace and quiet. He felt the cool air breezing in through his hair, rushing past ears. He closed his eyes letting the air take him. It happened again. All the streets mapped themselves out appearing as sonar in his minds eye. He could see a car coming in from a side road roughly half a mile ahead. He shot his eyes back open in shock. There was no adrenaline. No drive. He felt unnaturally calm. He slowed his bike down briefly, just enough to let the car ahead get a head start. As he came closer to the side road he could see the car coming up to the intersection. Before either himself or the driver could register what was happening he smashed his bike into the side of the car. There was a loud crunch of twisting steel and breaking glass as Johnny was thrown from the bike over the top of the car. He landed on his shoulder on the opposite side and rolled several yards before coming to a stop. His entire body burned, the side of his head throbbed and felt numb. He rolled onto his back panting in exhaustion, feeling left for dead.
A hard jolt hit his inner thigh. It burned and started feeling wet. He craned his neck up from the pavement. There was a large bald man stumbling toward him. Gun extended. Johnny thought it was the bodyguard he had knocked out at the club but he couldn’t be sure. There was a large burn on the side of his face from an airbag deployment. On the other side of his face were several short, but deep cuts from glass shards. He fired the gun again, and Johnny felt another shot of pain right underneath the kneecap of his other leg. He yelled in pain. The bald man stood over him, staring down at him.
“You think you can insult me? Hmm?” He slammed the but of the gun into the side of Johnny’s jaw. Johnny spit up a little blood onto the road. The man slammed the gun into the numb side of his head. A screaming pain shot through the left side of his head down his neck. He made a short scream, and before he knew it he had passed out from the pain.

Narnia people of the bloodred cross lyrics

Here is a song I'd like to share with everyone before getting to far. I glimpse into the music I love, but far beyond that, the lyrics are a powerful message and declaration of faith through all things in life. Please check it out, read the lyrics and declare them for yourself.




One week ago last Friday night I took my beautiful, pregnant wife into the hospital because she was having contractions, and at three minutes to midnight the doctor delivered our third child, our second son, Jackson Henry Matthew. As most babies do when they first meet the world, his first duty was testing his lungs and vocals, screaming loud and proud like a true angry baby needing food. As Saturday progressed, so did issues. They had put Jackson in the Neonatal ICU due to fluid still hanging around in his lungs, which was common in babies that were earlier than 38 weeks (Jackson was 37 weeks and two days). It just seemed that since Jacksons birth he under went some massive moments of discomfort, and the deeper I looked, the more God painted me a picture of growing and developing faith.

Before a baby is born, the baby has it made. He is in a nice warm sack that keeps him toasty, a tube is connected directly to his stomach, so eating is a breaze, and breathing? I'm still not sure how that one works. And darkness is just a given. Then, all of a sudden, they're ripped out of their comfort zone. Darkness is replaced with bright florecent lights, the feeding tube is maliciously cut away from their tummies, and now they have to keep their own temprature, AND breathe on their own. Life sucks sometimes.

The point is here: In order for a baby to progress from inception to birth, there must be discomfort. And if there is no discomfort, families are faced with the horror and pain of a family death. Is our progression in faith painless? Do we experience absolutely no discomfort? If we don't we're not experiencing progression, we're experiencing regression. James 1:2,3-"Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance."

James' first message to the twelve tribes immediately following his greeting is ultimately, don't avoid discomfort and trial, but accept them, and (taking it one step further) turn your pain into joy. When we put our all into God (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit), He puts His all into us. He desires us to cultivate, and grow into something so much more than what we are. When we face any discomfort, it is always used for our growth as a strengthening of faith, even if it be discomfort caused by some evil means, it is still a tool used by God for our good. Even those who don't believe in God are faced with discomfort for the purpose of seeds to be planted

I am convinced that this acceptance and embracment of discomfort is vital to our walk with the Lord, without out it, there is no way we can progress. It is a heartbreaking situation to lose an unborn child, just as much, it is a heart breaking thing for God to lose his children that have not been born again, and have not accepted that discomfort, but instead that discomfort into pain, and turned their anger on a God of love.

my wife-my best friend.

First thing's first. I want to make something explicitly clear, and I don't mean to sound rude. I love all the positive reinforcement I've been getting from family and friends on my blog, and by no means do I want to discourage anyone from it, but here is my issue: I have only two guys I know of reading this blog, again girls love your reinforcement. Guys if you could get other gentlemen reading this, that would be spectacular. I'm doing this for guys to read and hopefully gain some understanding and wisdom in their married lives, and some Jesus at the same time. It is not for girls to read and nod their heads and agree. If you agree OK, if you learn and gain, so much better, that being said, let's start seeing some testosterone. Now I need some brawny music to get started.

  

 

My wife tends to display to me some quite profound wisdom in the form of simple and direct questions. And it is from one of these moments that I really gained a greater understanding of marriage, and a marital relationship. The idea of having a good marital relationship is that you know your partner better than anyone else in the world. As Pastor Jerry Solis of Riverside Church put it: Where secrets live intimacy dies, and where intimacy lives secrets die. A complete nakedness and vulnerability is vital to a good marriage. This is what my wife had got me thinking about: Am I treating my wife like my best friend?

 

Do you treat your wife like your best friend? I turned this question over and over in my head. I thought of my answer first, no I wasn't it. Was this biblically accurate? How could it not be, God made us into one flesh, and even though wedding vows are taken with mostly cavalier attitudes, God takes them seriously. Now in my life what would a relationship with my best friend be like? Thanks to my church, and answered prayers I've got some wonderful friends. Many of whom I feel I can speak openly with about anything, and I know they'll be there to celebrate with me when I'm happy, and support me when I'm down. Can I do that with my wife? Do I feel I can speak openly with her? What makes things worse, how does she feel? She chose to take a part in my life with me, to share in an adventure with me. How insulted does she feel? If I didn't treat her like my best friend, let alone call her my best friend, and yet she followed me out of love, how does that feel?

 

So I made it a point from now on, that I will treat her like my best friend in the world. Why? Because she  is. When I asked her to marry me, she would have followed me to the ends of the earth and back again. I made a lot of really stupid mistakes early on in our marriage, and still do, and yet every single morning I woke up, there she was. Every time I lost my temper, she never left. Our first year together got bad, and of all the times I turned my back and walked away just hoping and praying the arguing would just disappear, she never ever left. Not only did she never leave, but she'd come looking for me to make sure I was safe.

 

My wife never got on the pedestal she deserved. And when I told her "I do" I promised her I'd be her best friend for life, and I never was. Guys these days have lost so much so hard thanks to all the medias prone attention to all the negativity of masculinity. It has become OK to forget our wedding vows and leave our wives behind. Kids? Kids are just a bi factor, if they get caught in the cross hairs, that's too bad, but whats a guy going to do? He's got a new woman, and a job, he has got to do what is best for himself.

 

"Husbands, love your wives as Christ loved the church, giving himself up for her..." We are not our own gentleman. We are first God's, we were bought with the price of Jesus Christ. In the same way we are to lay our lives down for our wives. If you're whining and complaining about how your case is different because your wife is never happy with you, boo hoo hoo. How many times do you fight God? How many times do you want to give up with God? Even if you deny God, His gift and promise are still there for the taking, period. Start treating your wife like your best friend, and your only beloved, because she is.

valentines day

Valentines 2011-
I’m not a romantic by any means whatsoever. I hear about all these inventive things men do for their wives such as leaving “I love you” post-its all over, or planning secret weekend getaways with their wives. The most romantic thing I can ever think of doing is dinner and a movie. I know I’m not the greatest father alive, but I am a good father. I know I’m not the strongest Christian, but I try to keep my faith strong. I am beginning to see though, I am far from being the husband I should be.

I spend so much time focusing on how to be a better man of God, and how to be a better father that I completely forget that there is a starving and deprived woman in my life. I am at a point where I don’t know what the best thing I can do for her is. I have a difficult enough time thinking outside the box as it is, let alone trying to figure out something loving I can do for my wife.
If you were to ask me, when I was a dating my wife, for a list of 100 things I loved about her, I would have it signed, sealed, and delivered in no more than an hour. I have tried working a list like this recently, and can’t seem to get beyond ten or twenty. I have completely broken her heart and made her feel completely unappreciated and undesired.
I know if my daughter were to marry someone who eventually tossed her aside like an old glove, I would probably be out for blood. Here was my wife, depending on me to meet her desire for love, happiness, and spontaneity, and I just don’t care. I’d prefer to wait till she got upset about never being without kids before planning a date. I’d prefer to wait until she’s so worn out and distraught before making any attempt to be a better man.
So to my wife, if and when you read this. I am sorry I have taken you for granted over the past couple years. I will remember from now on to spend equal time working on our marriage and relationship together as I spend working on being a father. I promise to love you without lacking, and meet your desires to the best of my abilities.

the mystery is gone...or is it?

Well, all the difficulty we've had inn figuring out what our new baby is has come to an end. You can read all about it on my wife's blog here.

So, the mystery has been revealed as a little girl, and will be the final addition to this landmark Matthew family. Yes, I say the mystery is revealed, but that could not be farther from the truth. It's said in the Bible over and over again that the only thing in life that is constant is Jesus. This opens up an entire world of mystery and intrigue in our every day lives. I heard in a radio broadcast that so many people feel so empty and disappointed with their lives because of the romanticism and fantasy of books and movies. What people fail to notice is the romanticism and fantasy run free in our lives every single day. We don't know what tomorrow will bring, and our entire future is one big question mark.

I guess what I'm getting at here is that, our "mystery" baby (now known as  Talia Jewel Matthew) will be just as mysterious tomorrow as today. Who is to say who she will become? Or what she will be?

For my son, while my wife was still pregnant with him, I sang "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." Every word I sang for him I meant. I want him to twinkle and spark in this life, and I do wonder what he will become. Those words ring true every single time I look at my son and daughter, and think about my daughter on the way. I'm excited to see their lives unfold, and watch them grow up to become who they were meant to be.

Talia Jewel Matthew-I love you from the bottom of my heart, little star!

Three Duties of Man

If your a guy there are most likely three rites of passage you will face.
1.) Manhood
2.) Marriage
3.) Fatherhood
Each of these carries an awesome blessing and a heavy responsibility. As I have found in my walk with Christ, everything is a balance. There is no single solution for everything, but multiple solutions and purposes that need to be handled with care and wisdom. These three passages lead us men into three incredibly important and difficult jobs, that also fill our lives with joy, and excitement. In order of importance:
1.) Christian
2.) Husband
3.) Father
In the future I plan to explore these duties in greater depth, with more study, for now we'll just get an overview of them.

I think we can all agree there is nothing more important in this life than our faith and belief in Jesus Christ, in His resurrection, and forgivness. These should be the core of every piece of our life. Beginning in my late teen years and up until almost a year ago I always questioned the validity of the Bible. Yes, there were more manuscripts of the Bible find than The Art of War, or the Qur' an, or Homers epic poems, but it never changed my idea that these books were written thousands of years ago with no printing press and retold by word of mouth. Even if the dead sea scrolls were proven to be written in the days of the early church, I still questioned how trustworthy they really were, and then a single verse put everything in perspective for me:
"All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness,"
2 Timothy 3:16
As I meditated on this verse it became explicitly clear to me, If I believed that "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." Then I had no choice but to believe EVERY scripture in the Bible was not only the truth, but it was the breath of God in written word. To deny any one single would be to deny the entire Bible including the resurrection, the birth of Jesus, even the deity and existance of God. It was then I realized I have no hope of knowing God, much less loving God if I wasn't getting inside of His breath and His word every day. As christians it should be our desire and our purpose to immerse and drown ourselves in the words of Christ and draw ourselves closer to Him and gain a deeper understanding of who He is.

Our next duty of husband paints our relationship with Christ as a more tangible picture, being commanded to love our wives as Christ loved the church. This verse goes on to say, and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word. So not only is it our duty serve and scrifice ourselves to our wives, her spirituality is dependant on us as well, "washing with water through the word." I heard someone on the radio once say that regardless of whether or not the head of the household is the one who sinned, he is still held responsible for the faults of his family. Adam was not the first to sin, but he stood by and did nothing while his wife was tempted, and not only did he in turn fall because she did, he was also held responsible for her actions. In Genesis 3:9 it says specifically that God called for Adam, there was no mention of Eve. Because Adam failed to step and defend his wife from evil, not only did she fall, but he fell with her, and both were punished. Because of one mans failures sin prevailed. Given the choice, would you allow sin to enter and  prevail within your family? Would you desire your wife and children to fall away?

To me personally there is not a more daunting responsibilty than the care, and well being of a brand new child that is absolutly dependant upon you for everything, and I do mean everything. These lives that have not yet had a chance to live will inevitably be created, shaped, molded and determined by how we raise, teach and discipline. They have no concept or thought of God unless we make Him a part of our families. From the day they are born as far as they know, the world revolves around them. They are born, they need to be fed, they need to be clothed. We do everything for them when they are first born, and unless careful discipline is administered they will always believe that life will serve them everything they need on a silver plater. It's the delicate balance I was talking about, we need serve them, but teach them to do it themselves at the same time. We need to be tough, but loving. It's a very difficult and fine balance that I truly believe has never yet been perfected, but if we Commit to the LORD whatever we do, and he will establish our plans.

I believe the three studies on all these jobs are going to be great, and I hope and pray they's be a blessing to all. Looking forward to the journey.

Ok, this is some crazy idea I got the other day and I just jumped on it. It is the beginning of a story, don't know how long it will be. Not sure how often I'll work on it. Hopefully this portion I am sharing will leave you in mystery. Hopefully you will thoroughly enjoy it. Hopefully you will want to hear more, if not just say so and I'll forget it. Here it is:

Desolate. Destroyed. The words pounded through my head. My eyes closed, and head heavy. I start shaking my head and rub my eyes to take out the sleep. I’m not on a bed. This is hard. Uncomfortable. I sit up and realize it’s a wooden bench. I look ahead and see a sea of blank stares and hollow bodies. To my right and left are endless rows of more benches, more people waking up from sleep. I look at my hands, feel my face, touch my legs. Everything is surreal. I am wearing a grey, three-button suit, a white shirt, and red necktie. My memory is gone. I remember nothing of yesterday, nothing of how I got here, nothing of where I am. Empty faces stare ahead. Expectant, and yet drained. I stand up and automatically understand their perceptions and feelings. As I stood my heart and chest remained. I feel them leaving my body and staying behind. My emotions are torn from my body, and there is no reason to stay behind. I walk forward creating another head in the mass, waiting for my journey to continue. Behind me I can hear yet another person awake and pull himself from the bench. Him, like me, will just become another blank stare.
I don’t know if hours passed, or days, or weeks. A flash of silver roared and howled in front of us and came to a grinding halt. We all march on board the train silently, in a neat single file. There is no rush, but there is no reason to delay. Inside the corridor is a rich golden light. A man in a black suit, shirt, and tie awaits me.
“May I show you to your compartment sir?”
I cannot speak, but nod my head for there is no reason to do otherwise. The man in the black uniform leads me down the golden corridor. All the people that have entered the train before have seemed to disappear. There is no other person in sight. He leads me into a compartment. It is extremely large. The size of a house itself, but I take no wonder that there is no possibility this could actually fit inside the train. The room is filled with the same golden light that filled the corridor, only much more brilliant and shining. The roof extends nearly 40 feet above my head. A long winding staircase led up to a balcony that surrounded the compartment, and led to other rooms. The man in black turned to look at me.
“You will be residing here until you reach an understanding. A restaurant and lounge can be found in the next car. You will find the food satisfactory. When I leave you shall be able to speak yet again and you can feel free to speak with anyone wish.”
He turns to leave and exits out the door. As he does I feel my mouth and my tongue loosen as though suddenly becoming unknotted, though I was unaware I was incapable of speech. My mind immediately draws me to the lounge and restaurant. I feel empty and in need of another human being. I walk towards the next car.