Tag: dead

I Am Not Enough

D. Michl Lowe2 Comments

I’ve concluded that there is apparently something deeply unlikeable and untrustworthy about me. There is a reality of who I am that others must see, that I do not. Maybe those who truly care about me know. Maybe they have tried to tell me. Maybe they have tried to help me understand, and I have stuffed cotton in my ears and closed my eyes to their kindness. Maybe I have been willfully blind to my own shortcomings. Maybe I still am.

For the last couple of years, I had been through over twenty job interviews and had had no luck at all until just recently. For over ten years, I have been nominated for a leadership position but have never been voted into that position. And I don’t blame the voters; I believe they are voting truly and in good faith! It is myself that I see as a failure. It is an observation of my own persona. I would say I am lazy, but really, I don’t think that is it. I value being able to live with the money I make, but I struggle to see my efforts as valuable.

So, is this a depression, then? I assume so. I have heartache and am searching for passion and purpose. I would like to be a true writer, but I have never felt as though I am good enough to truly be called by the title author or writer. Am I proud of my books and writing? Yes, of course, but in the back of my mind, I continually downplay them and question their validity.

I love my family; they give me unending joy and satisfaction, but I feel inadequate at the task of being a father and husband as well. I wonder if this inadequate feeling comes from a lack of my ability to fully support them financially, but then again, maybe it goes beyond that.

I seek purpose in God but feel a failure there as well. I wrote a book in an attempt to harden my devotion and zeal for Christ, but even in all I have done, I feel a failure. As if I should have done more or not done enough. I understand there is continual growth in Christ, and I do see that growth within myself, but then I look back on where I was before. Back then, I thought I was wise, but truly, I was very foolish and didn’t know it. So how am I to believe I am now wise, knowing in ten years I may look back and see my current foolishness for what it is?

They call it a mid-life crisis, but the crisis is a realization of a lifelong inadequacy. How do you make a life worthy? How do you understand what you can change to make it better? There are some things you are locked into, some things that cannot be changed. How do you turn listlessness into motivation and purpose? I don’t trust myself to know that my answers are right.

So what am I to do? Am I meant to meander along, continuing to live in a miasma of stale living? Should I continue to be burdened by a raw and open self-inflicted wound to my ego? Or should I accept the truth, accept the truth that I am not good enough? That I am not worthy of praise? That I am not enough? Because I will never be enough. I can’t do it.

However, when I am weak—because I am weak—He is strong. When I am not enough—and I am not—He is enough. When I am lacking, and I am lacking, He is full and true. When I am down, and I have been down, He is more than enough to raise me up. When I am through with giving effort, and at times, I feel as though I am through, He is there to carry me on.

I am not enough, and I never will be. The reality is no one is enough. No one is truly able. We are all frail and slowly dying, the conscious dead. It is only through the light of Christ we become anything else. In truth, we are only ever meant to be the marionettes of God, allowing the Master to bring us to life and give us His purpose. Am I enough? Yes, but only because I am His. Do I have meaning? Yes, but only the meaning He brings to life within me?

I am the resurrected corpse, Lazarus. I’m stinking but smelling better as the light hits my gaunt face. Undecaying from my death – being brought back into the world of the living, color returning. It is not I who now lives, but Christ who has chosen to live within the destitution of my life, giving it a robust and full justification.

He is worthy, so I am worthy.

When I Die, Freeze Me And Pound Me In The Ground

D. Michl LoweLeave a comment

My mother used to say, “When I die, just freeze me and pound me in the ground.” This is a great saying and honestly made me really think about what I wanted to be done when I died. Maybe that’s a morbid thing to talk about or think about, but honestly, it’s never been that big of a deal to me. My death is not the end of me. I know where I’m going and while I might not know all the details of what is going to happen, I am ready for it should it come soon. I do not fear death.

So I have been thinking about it for a long time now and I have realized that I am unlike many of my fellow West Virginians. The people of West Virginia value funerals… a lot. It is a big deal here. I however do not. While I understand why these rituals are valued, I myself do not value them at all. Well, let me step that back for a second. There is value to me, in that I see that they help people I care about go through the grieving process. That is valuable to me, but me personally, no.

I believe when I die, if my wife and children are still around (I hope), then I don’t want a funeral. I suppose that if the kids need something then that is fine, but honestly, I hope they don’t spend much money on it. If anything is needed to be done, then just have a picture of me up front at the church and have the pastor preach a short sermon. Then maybe people could bring some pot luck so people could eat and share memories of me, that would be great.

I have seen the bills that funerals leave behind. I don’t want to saddle my family with anything like that when I pass on. I don’t need a fancy coffin. I don’t need a new suit to wear. I don’t need formaldehyde in me to preserve me. In fact, I don’t need anything done to the body besides to get rid of it. That’s not me any longer. I am not in there. Who I am is no longer present with that husk. I am somewhere else, with someone else.

I understand that grief is a part of losing someone. I am okay with the grief, but it has nothing to do with my body. I have spent a little time looking into how to donate your body to science, but it seems like it is a more complicated idea than I first thought. It’s not like being an organ donor, where you just check the box and it’s taken care of. There’s a little more to it apparently. I need to spend some more time investigating it. I would rather allow my body to help future doctors learn than to make it all “pretty” so people can gawk at my body and say things like, “He looks so natural.” Yeah, I’m a fan of that.

Death, for me, is not a loss. Sure I don’t want to have it happen any time soon, there’s still a lot left to do on this plane, but neither do I shy away from it. I’m not worried about it. When I was younger, there was certainly some existential dread going on, but I think that was because I felt like there was still so much left to do. Much of those desires have been fulfilled for me. Let’s look at some of those, I got to marry the love of my life, and our life together has been fantastic so far and as much as I can tell, it will be for the future as well. I have three amazing kids who are already turning out fantastic. Now of course there’s a lot left to do with them, but they are here and will continue to be as fantastic as they are now, I have no doubt. I guess in the end, as my Momma said, “Just freeze me and pound me in the ground.”

D. Michl Lowe