Here is a Short Story I wrote.
Msgr. Mileski hereby receives my express permission to quote my editor's comment in its entirety on the back cover of his forthcoming monograph, which will explore the struggles of the human person in the face of devastating, unpredictable, and dehumanizing physical pain.  --Fr. Kevin Bauman--



Groggily, I come to consciousness.  Sensation begins around my eye.  Life's little ironies genuinely are funny at time.  For the longest time, my left eye was the stronger of the two.  Now, however, it is the area around my left eye where I have so much trouble.  I look at the clock and see that the time is now 5:30 a.m.  The third time I have awaken like this since I went to bed.

I lay in bed, engaged in a battle between my desire to sleep and my better judgment.  Judgment tells me that if I do not get up now, things will get far, far worse.  Desire, on the other hand, reminds judgment that there have been times where things didn't get worse, that I was able to just go back to sleep with no problem whatsoever.  Judgment wins the argument by simply asking how long it has been since this has been the case.  Desire yields, and I get out of bed ... it has been nearly 10 – utterly valuable – minutes ... the fear of “will I make it in time” flashes across my mind.

I stumble to my feet, making my way across the room.  I must be careful not to trip or step on anything. My room is a disaster because of the disarray that now seems to run rampant in my life.  I must cross what seems like a minefield.  I maneuver around the books and shoes, adding to the minefield by strategically hurling the items on my chair to the floor.  As my body collapses to the chair, I try with all my might to lift my numb arms to activate what I have come to call “the breath of God.”

I reach out, grasping with all my might, the conduit with which I will receive so sweet a breath.  A twinge, appearing suddenly and with such great intensity, nearly knocks me to the ground.  All I am able to do is let out a small whimper.  It takes a moment, but the twinge passes and I sit upright once again.  I am always surprised at how quickly I come to my full senses when the twinge hits.  With great haste, I take firm hold and open the conduit gate, allowing the breath of God to fill my nostrils and lungs.  Deeply I breathe in the heavenly air.  Air so pure that I find myself quickly filled with a new strength, a strenght I know I will need for the battle to come.  And come it does.

The beast manifests himself and the battle ensues.  He begins his onslaught by climbing upon my back, allowing his full weight to fall upon me.  I struggle to stretch and twist to get him off, but alas, it is to no avail.  Taking a firm hold to me, the beast places his hands upon my head, pressing his fingers into my skull.  I fight, swat, and push back, but he is more powerful that I.  Harder and harder the beast presses upon me, trying to pierce my cranium, and rip it apart.  Breathing deeply of the breath of life, I allow it to hold my head together, and prevent the beast from tearing my head asunder.  This is a battle I have fought many a time, and have long learned that the only way to succeed is to sacrifice and let someone or something else fight this battle for me.  I am too weak to take on the beast alone.

Growing frustrated with the failure of his previous tactic, the beast succeeds in what can only be referred to as a “sneak attack.”  Without my knowing, the beast had taken his tail, and with a swift motion, pierced the back of my head, and was now using it to liberate my left eye from my face.  My hand, beyond my control, jolts forward to prevent the beast's blow.  With all my might, I try to hold my eye in place, but the beast doesn't submit.  As the pain grows worse, every other thought in my mind vanishes, save one - “Who shall come to my aid?”

In a desperate attempt to shake the beast from me, I arise, and try to throw the beast to the ground.  I strike at him, only to hit myself for the beast had moved at the last moment.  His agility is remarkable considering his size and power.  After some time of vain struggle, the weight and power of the beast  forces me to my knees.  Doubled over in pain, I arrive at a very brief and unexpected moment of clarity.  I plead to God to aid me in this battle.  While Crying out to the Lord and blessed St. Michael with all my heart, a fascinating moment begins. 

The beast, frozen with fear, creates an opening.  I muster up whatever strength I can, make my way to my feet, and place myself back into my chair, breathing as deeply of the breath of God as my lungs will allow.  It seems as though the wind begins to blow stronger and stronger.  I then feel the beast beginning to lose his foothold.  His tail is thrown from my head, and the pain instantly subsides.  He attempts to take a few more blows, but his strength and power have been drained of him in the presence of the Almighty and His general.  Once the beast is at his weakest, I feel a gust from Michael's wings as he swoops down and thrusts the beast back to the Hell from whence he came.  The battle is won.  The beast has been defeated once again.

I take a few moments, just being in the presence of God and Michael, giving thanks for their aid.  I feel the warmth of the Lord, and the embrace of Michael, for they both know what I have been through.  I am affirmed in my persistence in faith.  The Lord, Michael, and I just take a moment, and sit together.  We say nothing, for nothing else need be said.  Finally, the Lord tells me it is time for me to return to my bed.  I ask Him if he would remember me should the beast return, fearing deep down that the beast will return (he has returned more times than I can count).  The Lord says consoles me, tells me to not be afraid, remain faithful, and all things will be granted unto me.  Michael gives me one last embrace, an embrace that lets me know that he too will come should I need him.  I sit for one more moment, shut the conduit gate, and I return to sleep.



Please comment and let me know what you think.  Criticism is also appreciated.

Joseph,

Very good (true) story!

PFW’s,

Roland.

Edit to remove O2 endorsement

Wow!  Felt like I was walking with you every step of the way.

The chaos in the house that accompanies a rough cycle is something I think all of us can understand.  Just trying to brush my teeth without crying is all I can accomplish at times.  Housework or cleaning is not a priority.  Once the storm has passed, it can be downright scary to see what has been left in its wake.

Beautiful and soul deep writing.  Thanks for sharing it with us.

Potter wrote on Dec 7^th, 2008 at 9:56pm:

i assume that by the comments of "don't quit your day job" that I still have some work to do.  Secondly, i feel the need to clarify.  I took some creative license.  In the piece, "Breath of God" refers to my beloved O2.

So, for the love of God ... Get off my back about the o2!!
  I am really beginning to get irritated about this.  Offer me compassion, but act like you're my doctor and have authority over how I deal with my headaches.

dionysiusaeropagite wrote on Dec 7^th, 2008 at 10:12pm:


I understood that is what you meant.  I found it to be very creative and well written.  Quite descriptive, really.  You put into words something that my husband has tried to explain to me.

Hope you get some good rest soon.

Kimberly

Father, don't focus on the one negative. Negativity and cynicism in a persons makeup make for a sad individual. Look at all that enjoyed it and and don't dwell on the negative. It won't help your calling, your relationship, or your sense of purpose.

BTW, I enjoyed it.

Peace brother.

Dear Joseph:

You've painted a word picture that I can relate to.  Seeing that you are local to me, in Columbus, OH, perhaps you would like to talk on the phone, or in person.  PM me if you're interested.

Wishing you well,

Ray

Potter wrote on Dec 7^th, 2008 at 9:56pm:


This is good advice Father but for a different reason, there are few enough already who both hear and heed the calling that you have. 

Matt

dionysiusaeropagite wrote on Dec 7^th, 2008 at 10:49pm:



You have been reading the site haven't you?

I don't defend Potter as he would really hate it if I did, but there is judgemental language in the post above and it would probably inflame me I am afraid, in the same way as the language in your prose enriched, so maybe I am more like Potter than I thought.

Put it this way, if you posted the above without posting as a representative of a faith with perhaps some right to judge??????, it would probably be less well received as it pretty strong for an early post??


Oh Lorks! Looks like I am going to have to exile myself YET AGAIN!!!!!!!!


w

dionysiusaeropagite wrote on Dec 7^th, 2008 at 10:49pm:


       Show me one thread where I have diagnosed or claimed that 02 is the only form of treatment. 
        You asked for criticism or comments and I commented, not criticized.  Were those five words I penned that powerful?

                     Potter

Potter wrote on Dec 8^th, 2008 at 11:08am:


Potter wrote on Dec 3^rd, 2008 at 1:54pm:

Good story. One we all know too well. Dont quit your day job, we could use more spiritual leaders. We are a diverse bunch here. Dont expect all to have the same response. We are all different the way God intended. That doesn't make anyone less human or empathetic, just different.  Your response to one opinion seems unfatherly. You asked for criticism. You got it. What you didn't get was the other 95% of communication...body language, visual clues. Add those to the comment and you would relax about it. Lighten up!!! All of you, my friends in battle, we have bigger foes than ourselves.
all the best to all the best
the bb