“Your love surrounds me, when my thoughts wage war
When night screams terror, there Your voice will roar
Come death or shadow, God I know
Your light will meet me there!”
There are very few scents that I have ever smelt that I still remember. The smell of burning trash from the streets in Uganda, the smell that accompanies a Louisiana rain storm, or waking up to the smell of my father’s pancakes and our dogs, ready for me to give them some as treats.
Yet, since late October, one scent, one smell has provoked both hatred and joy within me, and often within the same day. I have grown to dislike the smell of popcorn.
Since October, I have worked at the newest movie theater here in Fort Collins. With reserved seating, a full service menu, and an IMAX-like screen, it is without a doubt the best destination for movie-goers in northern Colorado.
These are all massive perks for the dedicated movie-goer. As one myself, I find these appealing. Since working, I have gotten to see my fair-share of free movies as a result of putting in my time as a part-time usher.
However, there are downsides. I am one of the oldest employees working there who is not a manager. In an environment filled with high school and college students, it is very easy for me to run to paranoid thoughts. Much anxiety has thrived since I have been employed simply because I’ve worried about others opinions of me. A lot of this is just due to countless people over the years making fun of me, down-talking to me, and looking at me as just someone with an illness and a disability, who can only sweep up popcorn.
If you’ve noticed as well, aside from a poem I posted in October, I have not written an actual blog since September. From the time I’ve worked till now, I’ve often found myself so depressed that I think writing is worthless, that I should have never gone to college, and that I am incapable of more things than I can count.
Yet, as I’m sitting here in my apartment, looking out my window at much appreciated but long overdue snowflakes, I know one thing. Despite what others may say, what others may think, despite the countless list of things I can’t do and things that are hard for me, there is one thing that has never been hard and outlasted my journey with mental illness.
That my friends, is the result of what you are reading right now: writing. I have always been able to write. I have always been able, whether through poems, blogs, short stories or papers, capable to write what was on my heart and mind and make something meaningful out of my collected thoughts.
I often get asked if I have graduated college and what my degree is. Sometimes, I am asked if I have a “five-year plan” or what my goals are for a career. To be honest, to live with a mental illness and to try to obtain or even think about having a career equal to an individual who is sane is a struggle in itself.
Yet, if I look back to the world and times of the Bible, to the lives of Christ’s disciples, I realize they knew something few of us will truly ever know. They knew how to follow Jesus by simply doing what He says, literally walking with Him. Though they lived in a different time and place, they forsook the treasures, the standards, and the ways of their time because they knew they were living for something and Someone greater.
Therefore, if they could follow His commands in a world free of technology and handheld electronic devices, why can’t we?
Colossians 3:23-24 New International Version (NIV)
23 Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, 24 since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.
Until Next Time,
Jacobo
The Adventures of A Warrior 