Living With Chronic Pain

She is a hero.

Every day she is in continuous, nagging, dull, sharp, debilitating, depressing physical pain. At specific places…and all over. Some days are worse than others. Sometimes it comes in waves, the ebbs bringing some relief only to be replaced by the crashing of the flows. It’s her body that pains her so much.

In the midst of all that, she enjoys life, her children, her granddaughter, and me.

She is a hero.

Its called living with chronic pain.

It’s not just her body that hurts, her mind hurts. Memories, both good and bad, are the source of pain at times. Her heart hurts. Hopes and dreams that have been destroyed are the source of pain, as well. At times, I’m sure my presence causes her pain.

In the midst of all THAT, she still enjoys her life.

Its called living with chronic pain.

And she is heroic in how she deals with it all.

I, also, live in chronic pain. But my pain is not the same as her pain.

My pain comes from broken promises and vows, undervalued relationships, weakness in the face of temptation, damaged family and friends, and a lost life calling. And, from knowing I have caused so much of her pain. Among other things. Some never to be shared here. Or anywhere.

In spite of all that, I find joy in life.

Its called living with chronic pain.

But, it’s not heroic. I’m not much of a hero to anyone. Not sure that’s what I would really want, anyway. I’m not asking for anyone’s worship or sympathy.

I suppose I just wanted to say it.

It hurts.




Happy Anniversary!

One year ago today, I opened my WP account, and soon thereafter published my first blog post.

That started a journey that has taken me to 31 countries through the visits from over 1,600 readers and 113 followers who have participated in my 137 posts. They include a poet, retail professional, college professor, pastor, and Muslim. The top three posts – other than my home page and “about” page – were Wanted, Please God, Not One More!, and The Beautiful Mind Effect.

Thank you for your time…your comments, your sharing.


Signs of Life

Setting up the old camper and pitching the tent.

Large trees providing a canopy from the summer sun.

Leaves rustling in the breeze.

Songs sung by countless birds.

Airborne beauty provided by fluttering butterflies.

The aroma of cooking bacon and sausage.

Roasted marshmallows over a smoky campfire.

Cool humid nights.

The insistent song of the cicada.

The sleepy swing of the hammock.

The joyful exploration of a toddling grandchild.

Hot coffee on a dewy morning.

Fruit pies baked over hot coals.

Swatting mosquitoes.

Raccoons venturing to investigate for tasty morsels.

Avoiding poison ivy.



Listening to The Beegees and ABBA.


No agenda.



Getting away. Awesome.

Camping with the family. Priceless.



The attached article was written as a Christian response to the #blacklivesmatter campaign. It is a powerful call to the church to embrace this important element of its true existence. I believe that it can also be interpreted as a call that #gaylivesmatter. It is a reminder that too many are lost to us and we must do all we can to stop the broken lives and hopelessness.


A husband who gives all he has to show his loving wife just how much he loves, cherishes, and respects her.

A man who works tirelessly to learn more, embrace new challenges, take on the imperfect in order to be given the chance at higher positions for the good of those who depend on him.

A guy who believes in God and believes that He loves him. But, sometimes he feels like he is the black sheep of the family that no one wants to talk about, unless it is to simply point out all negative things.

A man who, in spite of his portrayed confidence, keeps deeply hidden a nearly overwhelming sense of self-doubt.

A guy who breathes and sees behind this mask known as “Trevor.”

A person who in some ways is much more transparent than ever before, and more secluded than ever in other ways.

A guy who is intelligent, funny, personable, caring, selfless, and determined.

And yet…

Sorrow swallows my memories

Loneliness devours my peace

Depression taints my dreams

Hopelessness envelopes my passions

Countless flaws seemingly outnumber attributes

Still, I will…





In the cocoon, in my own way, in His time…

I remain.


Fried Chicken Happiness

I love to cook for my family.

I’m really not much of a cook…I have two specialties – fried chicken and chili. Well, maybe three – I will occasionally make a mean meatloaf. I’m sure in the grand scheme of things, they aren’t that great, but the family seems to really enjoy them.

So, tonight it was fried chicken, fried potatoes, and corn for the eldest daughter’s birthday.

Fried chicken satisfies my belly.

I’m sitting here typing this out listening to the joyful sounds of my happy family.

That’s what fried chicken happiness is all about – family fun.

My family satisfies my heart.

It really could be just about anything…anything that brings us all together to show each other our love.

I love them each with all my heart.


That’s what makes my life worth living.



Peaceful tranquility
Joyful contentment
Fun commitment

Terrifying weapon
Securely sheathed
Dismissed threat


Weapon unsheathed
Sneak attack
Weapon wielded

Tranquility disturbed
Peace lost
Pain reborn

Wounds open

Destruction witnessed
Danger perceived
Weapon re-sheathed