God's Big Red Button and Unforgivable Sins

My high school years were less than stellar. I often joke that the reason I drink is to try and kill every brain cell containing a memory of my high school years. But I can't honestly say that's nothing but a joke.

Now when I was in high school, I had this completely retarded theory that God had a big red button with my name on it. And if He was ever having a bad day, he'd just press that button and it would screw something in my life up. Then He'd get a laugh while my life grew ever so miserable. And of course, His favorite time to press that button was just when things in my life started to be looking up. It was almost like He planned it; as though good times were just setups to make the next bad time that much worse.

I didn't know why He did this, I just felt like He did. Maybe I'd committed some sin or ten that's completely beyond forgiveness. Or maybe He just didn't like my face. It didn't matter to me, all that mattered is that I was miserable and nothing I did seemed to change it (not that I ever really did much in all honesty, but you don't realize stupid shit like that til years later).

Of course as I grew up I realized that's a retarded theory. For one, if God is the God presented to humanity in the Bible, than big red buttons aren't his style. And two, if He's some other God, certainly He's got bigger fish to fry. But sometimes these days, no matter how retarded I know the theory is, I wonder if I've ever really given up on it.

I can't lie, ever since becoming a Christian, my relationship with God has been rocky. In South Carolina, it was probably at its best. I was surrounded by a lot of great Christians and there never a shortage of inspiration. However, when I got to England, things weren't so great. I know some great Christians for sure, but I also let myself follow a lot of negative influences. Then came New Mexico, where I never quite found the group I was hoping to find and while I went to church often enough, I never felt connected. Nor did I care to after awhile.

Finally, there's being back in Alaska.

For a long time, I was on the fence about reenlisting or separating and moving back home. At one point, I was pretty sure I was going to reenlist and I committed to it. But then, (to make a long story short), I really felt like God was telling me to separate and move home. So I did (there's really more to that story, but that's for another time).

And pretty much since day one of my plane landing back here, I've been wondering if this wasn't some cruel joke by God. Like maybe I committed some unforgivable sin and now He's laughing his ass off while I wonder what the fuck I'm doing in this place.

I'd say I'd give up my left nut to be able to go back in time and change my mind and reenlist, but that's a lie; I'd give both nuts (not like I'm using them for much anyways (and they also, more often than not, tend to get me in trouble)).

I've met some awesome, amazing people since coming home. And I've got to reconnect with a couple old friends I use to worry I may never see again. But let's be honest, if I had never come back, none of us would ever know the difference.

For the new friends, Paul Hayes may as well be a fictional character in a book (or in a movie, so much as the character is played by Johnny Depp). And for old friends, Paul would just be the guy that sends postcards from random places he visits and that occasionally drunk dials home.

And I don't know if reenlisting would actually have helped my relationship with God, but I know for certain it couldn't have made it any worse.

Anyways, to wrap this up, if there's any point that can be made from it all, it's that every night I go to bed and I'm stuck staring at the ceiling for hours on end, I'm daydreaming of getting the hell back out of here. (Actually, I usually daydream going back in time and being able to reenlist, but since that isn't possible, I try to imagine a more likely scenario). I love my friends here, more than they'll ever know, and I love Alaska (Anchorage is king of turning into a shit-hole though), but there's something missing and it's driving me absolutely insane.

Now luckily for those that want me around, my chances for escape seem few and far between these days (especially with that military commitment), but if a good one comes along, deuces.