In time, He spoke to me
Before she erased herself.

But what do you say,
When you've felt the same thing?
When the pen in your hand
was too heavy to lift?

When the keyboard beckoned,
but you could not write a word,
When you desired to leave this world?

"Comfort them, Caryn,
with what I  taught you
In your distress."

To battle the thought of suicide
takes revealing my own struggles,
with no lies?  Yes, yes, and yes.

This is not church-play;
Where adults hide their wounds
and sing songs to our Savior.

Where acting is allowed,
And scriptures never lived
are quoted from the pulpit.

This is the jungle,
wherein a wounded soldier
that is willing to be honest,
finds the more wounded,

and ties off the bleeding arm
and shares the canteen
and shouts prayers into the radio
and fights by your side

in hopes to bring life
one more day,
one more hour,
one more minute.

The clock on the wall is ticking,
The question becomes
"To play church" or
"To return to the jungle"?

Pardon me,
While I get my weapons and canteen.
I hear someone screaming in pain
and this Tigress has a mission.


*****

(C) Copyright 2006, 2007 Caryn LeMur



Read the two letters below, if you wish.

Hopefully, these letters will strengthen you.  Or,
you will know of someone that should read them.  

The names of the recipient were removed, of
course.

*****

LETTER ONE.
Deal Me In


Dear One:

Thank you for your letter.  

All I've heard from the Spirit at this point is to tell
you more about the game:

- It is a handle.

-- Jimmy the Greek had bet money all his life.  It is
estimated that he won and lost a few million in Las
Vegas.  After losing many thousand, he was found
on the dance floor, and dancing happily.  Astounded
at his attitude, a reporter asked him to explain
what was happening.  [As best I recall the quote]
Jimmy the Greek said, "The best thing in life is
gambling, and winning; the second best thing is
gambling and losing."

-- The Navy Seals began in Viet Nam.  Oddly, they
were known for having fun during battles, and
laughing as they raced through a boat killing the
enemy.  They were never at "war", they killed
people for "fun".

-- Caryn has been manipulated to give over $50K in
equity to one pastor (and twice refused); another
pastor has declined to pray for Caryn's friend dying
of cancer; a pastor attempted to mentally rape
Caryn.  

--- Caryn got serious, and nearly died.  Caryn got
silly, and the world came back together.

The handle of the "game" works and works fairly
well on pulling people that are too far "right" on the
pendulum back toward the left.  There are still
nights when I remember even more betrayal than
what is written above.  Serious and damaging
betrayal that sometimes my mind blocks out, and
other times, I see it again, in full color.  I go and
drink more now than ever.  4 shots of Bacardi in
diet coke.  Normally on Saturday night.  4 is my
limit.  Just enough to "forget my poverty".

But, Dear One, if I take life seriously, I literally walk
outside in the cold hoping to freeze to death.  
Death fantasy fulfillment, right?  My body shook
until shock set in... then with my mind numb, I
stumbled home.

Think of it as a pendulum:

    - Some Christians don't take life seriously at
    all.  They are too far left on the pendulum.  A
    counselor then will share how everything is life
    or death, every word is accounted for before
    Christ, and every deed is in "the books".  The
    counselor will hopefully pull them back to
    center.

    - But others take life too seriously.  They "beat
    their bodies", "live as if they are not married",
    and "challenge God to the test".  Only the new
    heaven and the new earth of Revelations
    appears to be permanent.  And so, the
    question is, how do we pull them back to
    center?  - we pull them back by sharing
    laughter, that life is a wonderful game, that
    there is joy in the midst of the furnace....

So, since you and I are too far "right" on the
pendulum, we must pull ourselves back.

Here is someone in the middle of the pendulum:

"...in all our troubles my joy knows no bounds. "  [II
Cor 7:4]

Whoa... this is serious.  This verse cannot exist.  It
simply cannot.  But it does exist.  Therefore, I am
doing something wrong, because in all my
"troubles" there is no joy.  "All troubles" and "joy
without bounds" cannot go together in the same
sentence... right?  Or... is it possible that Caryn is
messed-up and the scripture is correct?

Continuing with understanding the concept of the
game:

- My daughter's fiance' (Mr T) plays pool.  He plays
to be on the top team that will compete for Virginia
in Las Vegas.  Pool is not fun to him, ever.  It is
serious business.

- Enter Caryn.  She shoots about once a year.  Pulls
the cue off the wall.  Pours a diet coke with no
alcohol.  And takes on Mr T.  

-- Here's the big question:  who is full of trouble
and has joy without bounds?  Me.  Caryn.  The chick
that is blown away by my daughter's fiance'.  

Think about it, ....  To me, it is a wonderful game of
getting to know people and all about them.  To Mr.
T, it is war.

Let's be hard on ourselves.  Let's look at the
passage of scripture that follows and see the
intensity of "getting to know people":

II Cor 7:

    2 Make room for us in your hearts. We have
    wronged no one, we have corrupted no one,
    we have exploited no one.

    3 I do not say this to condemn you; I have said
    before that you have such a place in our hearts
    that we would live or die with you.

    4 I have great confidence in you; I take great
    pride in you. I am greatly encouraged; in all
    our troubles my joy knows no bounds.

    5 For when we came into Macedonia, this body
    of ours had no rest, but we were harassed at
    every turn—conflicts on the outside, fears
    within.

    6 But God, who comforts the downcast,
    comforted us by the coming of Titus,

    7 and not only by his coming but also by the
    comfort you had given him. He told us about
    your longing for me, your deep sorrow, your
    ardent concern for me, so that my joy was
    greater than ever.

Here it is again, with all the humanistic terms that
show intensely getting to know someone in bold:

II Cor 7:

    2 Make room for us in your hearts. We have
    wronged no one, we have corrupted no
    one, we have exploited no one.

    3 I do not say this to condemn you; I have
    said before that you have such a place in our
    hearts that we would live or die with
    you.

    4 I have great confidence in you; I take
    great pride in you. I am greatly
    encouraged; in all our troubles my joy
    knows no bounds.

    5 For when we came into Macedonia, this body
    of ours had no rest, but we were
    harassed at every turn conflicts on
    the outside, fears within.

    6 But God, who comforts the downcast,
    comforted us by the coming of Titus,

    7 and not only by his coming but also by the
    comfort you had given him. He told us about
    your longing for me, your deep sorrow,
    your ardent concern for me, so that my
    joy was greater than ever.


In the game that God has placed me, the stakes
were high.  I've nearly died once in ER.  I've had
one stroke.  I've tempted God and of course, I've
nearly died since He will not honor any test of Him
"coming through or else".  Ugly business, this God
thing.  But I learned about myself.

And, Dear One, I've gambled and lost, and then
danced with greedy pastors, frightened pastors,
and vicious pastors.  I've gambled and sat at the
table with someone that betrayed my love for 10
months or more, playing hand after hand, and
learning about people like never before.

This is my joy in the midst of all my troubles:

    God teaches me about myself and
    people.

That's why I stay in the game.

"The best thing in life is gambling and winning..."

What's the second best thing?

"gambling and losing"... and why?

because we learn even more about our own self
and others.

Time to play the right game, dear sister.  Loosen
up.  Laugh.  Get some Bacardi.  Watch a comedy,
even a foul one.  Then, when you remember what
God did to you and Job, cry.  Cry hard.  And then,
be amazed at what He taught you about yourself.  
Incredible insights are yours, babes.  You paid the
cost for those insights in spades.  

Then, laugh, loosen up, share Christ, and get
stabbed in the back.  Sing with joy.  Skip the "war"
attitude, and have "fun" racing about on the boat
as people die.  Live as a godly woman, and be
betrayed.  Then, when you remember God, you,
and Jeremiah, then cry.  Cry hard.  But be amazed
at what He taught you about people.

"...in all our troubles my joy knows no
bounds."

Deal me in, God, I'm in it for another high-stakes
time of getting to know others and my own self.

Deal me in.

Much love in Christ;

Caryn




LETTER TWO.
Why I Stay Upon This
Crazy Earth.


Dear One.

Thank you for your kind note, always.

I am glad that you see yourself and some of your
experiences in bits of my writings... I do hope that
the words I share, become words that help others
to articulate their own journey.  

I truly hope that you will stay in this life, though it is
so difficult at times.  I will miss you terribly, for you
are one of the few that can understand what I
write.

You see, to those that have not been there, my
writings seem like gibberish, foolishness, lack of
faith/lies about repentance/unwillingness to accept
the Spirit's power/etc.   You've been there, so you
understand.  In that way, my spirit touches your
spirit, so to speak.  When you are gone, part of me
will be gone as well.

So, I do hope that you will stay with life.  And not
choose death.

But I do want to be honest about my own self.  I do
wish for death at times.  Because, you see, I can
dance and I saw the Lord's angels.

    - To a dancer, moving to the dance is not as
    important as when the dance moves them.  At
    that point, we are one with the music.  The
    music turns my feet; the beat moves my hips;
    my hands caress my body; the mirror matters
    not; the eyes see no one; the beat, it moves,
    the sound, it is... one sound; one person; one.  
    Over and over -- one sound; one person;
    one....

    - At that moment, I no longer choose to dance,
    but the music dances me.

When I was dying in the ER, I saw three angels.  
One was close by my bed, and the other two far
away.  The two far away ones had their backs
toward me, and were locked into some sort of
pushing contest with one demon each.  The angel
near me stood very tall.  (I realized much later that
he was like the safety -- the last line of defense --
in football.)

I talked with the angel closest to me.  He said,
"Satan has requested to kill you, because you
taught your church to be honest."  As you know, I
survived the stroke.  And I never forgot those
words.  

    - To be sure, if a church is honest, they will
    grow, and become a true threat in the spiritual
    battlefield.  But if a church is focused on just
    having acceptable adult group fun and
    worship, and not even more focused on true
    vulnerable confession of short-comings and
    prayer, then that church is only a very minor
    threat to Satan's movement on the battlefield.

But concerning the angels that I saw:  one of the
odd sensations was this -- they did not chose to do
the will of God, but the will of God danced them.

I guess I should call it "fully surrendered free
choice" or similar -- I really don't have the right
words to describe how they moved.  Because they
did not move, but the will of God moved them.  
They are dancers like me....and dancers so far
above me.

There was no music as I was dying in ER -- there
were only angels, family, and medical staff
monitoring me.  Yet, the angels were waiting for
the next beat from God, the next note, the next
sound.  They were dancers.  They were dancers
like me.  And the will of God danced them, just like
the earthly music could dance me.  

I have so little fear of death now, because of that
vision.  You see, I wish so much for the will of God
to dance me..... How incredible it must be to
constantly move according to such divine music!  

Yes!  A beat of love! of resolve! of courage! of
willingness to come alongside the wounded or
dying!  To be moved by the music of God... yes...
yes.... yes.....

So, why do I stay on this crazy earth?  Me?  A
savage, a person given to adultery and use to
giving away their body, someone that can hate and
rage, someone hated by pastors for honesty and
lack of change according to their human time table,
someone that struggles and yet walks with God ....  
what a poor dancer of God's will I am now upon
this earth....

Yes, here on earth, I stumble so completely.  And,
in heaven, I will dance His will.  In time, perhaps His
will shall dance me.  Forever.

So, why do I stay?  My gods, why?

Because of the cry of the wounded upon the battle
field.

I have decided to stay, as His drunken soldier,
unworthy of being in His service, and unworthy of
His name.  

Because I hear the scream of someone torn by the
church...

    I have to stay, and crawl through the mud and
    jungle, just to bring them water from my
    canteen... just to give them hope that God is
    still with them... just to remind them that the
    church is so often wrong in its unwillingness to
    come alongside of those "overcome" with
    "sin"... to assure them that they are not a
    leper in God's sight, but 'washed, sanctified,
    and justified' in Him.

What can I say about those that are raped by their
pastors?  

    They wander about the city in shock, not even
    knowing to whom they can turn.  Like a
    woman after rape, they hate their own self for
    being so filthy, so deserving of being pushed
    down and silenced on the concrete floor, and
    so unable to stop the violation of someone
    pushing their own 'power' into their bodies.

    I find them sitting in corners, unable to even
    cry, the seamen of their attackers drying on
    their bodies.....  They mumble the words of
    their pastor-attackers from blood cracked lips
    and bruised faces.  All I do is hold them in my
    arms.  I weep with them.

I stay.

I stay because of the screams of the wounded.

So then, on one hand I should depart.  Life has
been hard.  And I know what it is like when the
music dances me.  Gods, I long for that moment
when the will of God dances me, just like the will of
God dances the angels.  I should depart and dance
with Him forever.

But on the other hand, I hear the screams of the
wounded.  

And then, from the throne of Heaven, I then hear
God calling out, "Whom shall I send?"

    - And hundreds of pastors say, "send me, I'll
    rape them with more 'truth'!"  

    - Hundreds more say, "Do not send me.  Make
    them repent, then send them to my door."  

    - Parishioners drool like dogs, and beg to be
    sent to lick the blood of the wounded, become
    frenzied, and snap at the air with words of
    "You were deceived"... "You were turned over
    to Satan"... and howl with "If only you had
    repented..."   

    - Others, simply ignore the call of God because
    they emotionally cannot hear the screams of
    the wounded - they are immature or
    overwhelmed with life.

And I, a drunken soldier, raise my hand, and say,
"Send me."  

And then the God of all Heaven looks at me, and
says, "Go to them."

He sends me to them.  And I go.

Dear One, there are a thousand soldiers better
than I, but none volunteer.

Yes, you are hurt.  And yes, you may feel that God
has not met your expectations.  And yes, it may
seem that He does not care.  

But try to hear the screams of others.  Ask God to
send you, a wounded soldier ready to give up.  And
then, watch what happens.

For every time I have dared to reach out to
someone more drunk or wounded than I, the Spirit
of God has touched two hearts -- theirs, and mine.

And, at that moment, the will of God dances me.  
His will moves me, just as it moves His angels.  I
dance as I was created to dance.  I dance.  

His will dances me.

Tis worth it all, then, to stay upon this earth.



Much love in Christ, always; my heart hears you;

Caryn





(C) Copyright 2006, Caryn LeMur
Christian,
Transsexual, and
Suicide
This page is a grouping of one
poem, followed by two letters.  
Please do read.  

Gentle hugs... and lots of them,
always.

Caryn



CHRISTIAN,
TRANSSEXUAL,
AND SUICIDE


She wrote to me,
She wished to die,
I did not know what to write back.

At first, I wrote anything,
and then, erased it.
And then sought God's insight.