A Man's Search for Understanding

Just like the illness sometimes everything isn't about sunshine and hope. This is something I wrote a while back one night expressing some of the internal psychological torment associated with my struggle with Bipolar Disorder. Maybe you can relate, maybe you can't. Here goes nothin':

A man in the years just past his prime was troubled with a difficulty while working his fields and went to God for help. God told him that He did not personally deal with the afflictions of mankind so he had no answers to the man’s ailments and how to relieve them. He told the man that he had put Jesus over the needs and desires of mankind and that he could surely help him find his answer.

                The man continued on to Jesus, the one who knew mankind better than anyone. Surely there was no one better to help with his pain than the Savior of the world, who atoned for all. The man came to Jesus and asked, “How do I deal with these difficulties and ailments in my life? Where is the cure and the salvation from pain so great as this?” Jesus stood up and with tenderness put a hand on the man’s shoulder. He said, “My son, I have been with the Father in all creation. I have seen all of the beauties and blessings bestowed upon man. I have also allowed the necessity of affliction, sorrow and sin in this life, that man might have things through-which to grow. Yet in all illness and affliction we’ve allowed among mankind, this one is not of our doing. I know not of the origin of your troubles but they sound so immense.” The man lowered his head in despair as he feared he might never come to an understanding and resolution to his pain. Seeing the man’s despair the Lord tearfully embraced him as he reluctantly told him of where his answer might be found. “There is one still who might have your answers, but to go to him is a path of darkness on which many never return. He may very well have your answers but understand his ways, he is cunning and manipulative and would have you lose even more. It is the fallen Angel who might know your pain. Go to Lucifer and he might have your answers.” Tearfully the man bid ado and continued his journey on.

                The path was quick and simple with a luxury of aids along the way. It seemed so enjoyable the man forgot his cares and the purpose of his journey, but the feelings raged on and kept him at his purpose. As he entered the devil’s great hall the handsome Lucifer, somewhat startled by the man’s presence, not that he hadn’t been aware the man was headed his way, but that he hardly dreamt he’d ever see this man face to face. Lucifer grinning began his cunning, lawyer-like remarks. “My friend, what brings you on such a wonderful journey to my neck of the woods? Were the ways of discipleship ones you could no longer keep? Were you wanting more riches from the sweat of your brow? Was the love of one person not fulfilling your desires?” The man looking to the floor then back up again looked Satan in the eyes and began his appeal. “I have been plagued with difficulties, ones I find nearly unbearable.” Satan interrupted, “Child, I can ease the difficulties of so many burdens. I know the complexities of life. It is much of what I give so that many people’s burdens are appeased. Do you want some drugs? A woman? Money or for me to billow up your vanity? Let me ease your burdens, friend. Tell me your problems.” The man taken back a bit by Lucifer’s ploys, slowly shook his head, ever so slightly lowering it with each movement until his chin lay firmly on his chest. From here he began again, ever so tired of the repetition of his story that took a little bit out of his stamina each declaim, “I have for some time been burned by a pain so unbearable it makes me cringe both on the inside and out to even recount it. The voices I hear are those that would lull me to sleep, only to perform their lobotomy. Sharp sounds invoke physical delusions of my body being pierced by daggers from head to toe. The touch of rain scathes my face like acid from the Gods, punishment for the skeletons that fill my closet. The pain is so immense that a sound mind would gladly escape with a leap to death or a loaded gun. Sometimes the best solution is to soak it all up, an attempt to drown yourself in agony and escape the pain, if only fate was so kind. My bed sheets are a body bag, conveniently placed for the night they will become my permanent place of rest. Smiles are like jokes, bipolar in nature, saying something in one form but with a basis that comes from material of the polar opposite. Satan, there is no shield from this. I’ve found no cure. Please tell me what you’ve done to me and how to get rid of this devil. It takes my days from me and makes my nights never end. Intelligence becomes so fleeting until it gives way to madness. I can not live like this, I can not go on. Please tell me, I’m begging you what I must do. Is it fasting or more prayer or giving greater alms to God? I know it is of the devil, it could come from no place else. Give me the diagnosis so that I might find the cure.” Lucifer looked on in amazement. Then a serious face of puzzlement overcame him. He stayed this way almost ten minutes before he gave his reply. His seriousness faded and a grin replaced the empty space. He said to the man, “I see the seriousness of your plead and the predicament of your situation. I see now why you have come to me for your answers but I’m sorry to say you are mistaken. It is quite laughable this place you are in, you are not the first to come to me with such an ailment. I hear the intensity of your pain and fear in your voice. I feel the trembling of the ground as you speak of this “evil” that you feel. I know that it’s real and I know that it is truly doing a number on you because with all your intelligence and keen awareness of life you have missed the most simple truth. It’s is true that God did not have your answer, nor Jesus too. But you have failed to see that I did not cause this either, the culprit is you.” The man was startled, confused and puzzled. “Satan, quit with your games, no Godly figure could create this ailment, it must be you, for it is a devil of the most devastating kind, just like you.” Satan laughed and then continued, “My friend you are mistaken. You have created this monster with your own mind. Don’t you see the humor in this? Don’t you see that this is a monster not of my creation, as devastating and morbid as you say is, it is not a devil at all but a figment of your imagination, so real it has set a course on your own self destruction. I can influence and tempt. I can stir anger and contempt, but not even I in all my power could cause such calculated destruction as you have manage with out me. Bravo! I applauded you, I may have met my match. I never thought someone could be so mad and not be touched by my friends.” The devil laughed and laughed. The plight of this man’s tale humored him to the bone.

                The man could see that his visit had reached its end. He traveled back to his home and contemplated along the way. What is my purpose now? Where do I go from here? He went home to his village and met his wife at his home’s gate. She kissed him and asked how his journey went and if the prognosis was that things would be okay. He smiled and hugged her and said things would be okay. That night after dinner he retired early to his bed. He laid down alone and gazed at the stars through the window. He thought about his journey and all he had learned. He thought about God and Jesus and the love they showed him, but he couldn’t get out of his mind the scoffing and laughter that Satan so vehemently expressed. He laid a little longer and then knew what he must do.

                The next morning he went to the fields and went about his work.


My wonderful wife said that I needed to explain and clarify a few things about this story. I love her to death but she's a little slow sometimes, so for all those non-literary people out there this is my analysis of my story, which I hate to give because it takes away the ability for one to interpret it as they wish. First off, I have to make clear that this is not a relegation of the Almighty. I am not saying that God and Jesus Christ can not and do not understand my or any other difficulty, that would be blasphemy. This is to be looked at as a mythological type journey of understanding. I revised the first line to begin the protagonist in his fields to help clarify the full circle. In his journey he first believes God has punished him or is the source of his problem to try him. Then he thinks Christ would have the answers, his appeal is not for Christ's comfort but for the origin of his difficulty. Christ notes that he also did not give this to him and (for mythological sake) points out that it is similar to the demons that Satan might surround us with. The end of the journey leads to the understanding that this is not an illness of Godly punishment or Demonic persuasion. It is a genetic illness mixed with psychological traumas only affective because of the way the man's own mind and body work. Heavy hearted by this knowledge he returns to those he loves and ponders how to best deal with such a heavy, lonely difficulty. The smile and reassurance is alluded to early in the story when he says his smiles are bipolar, showing one thing but meaning another. He has little assurance things will be okay, but he assures those he loves anyways. He is torn between God and Satan, and though Satan's evil so closely mimics the feelings of his heart and mind, he knows what choice he has to make. The choice is to live. To end where he began with very little relief but with a knowledge that he must push on for the sake of those he loves and for himself, so he does what he knows best. He goes back to life as usual, still weighed down by the burden and weight of the cross he bares. That is the true beauty for him and all who suffer, regardless of the difficulty. Early on I thought a diagnosis and understanding of what the problem was would give great relief. But like the man, it really didn't change the suffering he endured. To live every day and not give in to desires to flee, die or quit, that is the true hero. That is the quest many of us are on every day. That is the story of this man and many others.