Day 1544 Superman needs to wash his cape

17 05 2017

Hi Blog world well its Texas so you know its hot and humid. You walk outside after a shower you smell like a wet puppy and your pores look like clear plastic bowls. At least you can get a good tan and the smell of cooked bacon is rampant.

A sincere thank you for those who read my thoughts. To be honest it feels good when someone tell your thoughts, or being authentic and real helped me. Men don’t do what you do so you provide hope! When I die I hope the line is out the door and every person would say, he loved me, he was weird, honest, real and he provided me hope on my worst days. If that happens I left behind an amazing legacy. If I haven’t  yet I hope to do that soon.

Super man had a cape a pretty cool cape actually. Superman was 6th Halloween costume and when it was over I still wore the cape Sometimes I was clothed and sometimes I wasn’t but that’s another blog. The point is once I put that cape on I could do anything, I could fly, rescue my dog, bury my hot wheels deep in the dirt and find them, almost catch a squirrel, for 5 yards I was faster than a car. Point is with it on I could do anything it was my badge of honor. It had to be washed sometimes because it went everywhere with me and it went from  red to a dark brown. When I took it off I was just Normal Jason Tyler Wood. Nothing to save, no super hero, no one to cheer me on. So I needed the cape I thought.

10 years old my dad came to me and said son you’re the man of the family. I put on a permanent cape but I didn’t know it at the time. I put on a cape because my dad donated his to me. It was my badge, it was me rescuing everyone, me saving everything that need to be saved, me putting the world on my shoulders. A 10-year-old boy  trying to figure out a world but I didn’t even know how to shave. I wore it well though, my parents were proud of me told me I was doing a good job. I couldn’t let them down, I couldn’t take my cape off and wash it. I mean my family and world needed me. I couldn’t let myself down. This imaginary cape I was wearing my identity. I should be a 10 year old boy doing 10 year old boy stuff. I was busy trying to be responsible all the time, fixing adult problems and figuring out a way to get my family out of the hell it was in. At the same time developing an anger problem because I didn’t have the answers, fighting my way out of problems, loving people so they would love but knowing how to. I prayed people would like me and see what I was doing was awesome. They would shout my name to my greatness. I was creating the Tyler idol.

I could go through every year and tell you how I wore the cape without washing it,  how it was tattered, had holes in but I was going to retire it or even take it off. August 27th 2011 the cape fell without my wanting it to and I tried to take my life.  The cape and I ran out of answers. I looked at and wanted to put it back on but didn’t know how to tie it around my neck anymore. Who was I , I had no identity, my cape was destroyed but I didn’t know what to do without it.

The closer I’ve got to God I realize he’s my cape. I thought for the longest time he was my Kryptonite but I was so wrong. The problem is sometimes the 6-year-old boy comes out in me and I put on a cape. I try to rescue everything again, I want to save everything. I put everyone’s burden on me and then I trip over the cape.

I hope you get the story: I know to many people who wear capes everyday. Its tiring, it hurts and it makes life miserable. We weren’t meant to wear a cape, that’s for comic book hero’s.  Untie your cape, wash it, and put it in a nice box and store it. You don’t have to be Superman there’s  one superman and he will carry our cape.

No matter how strong you are it’s better to read about superman that carrying the burden of trying to be. This Halloween go as  adult superman and put on that cape enjoy it but then take it off and realize those days of pretending are over. Its time to live again.


Day 110 Deaths Door

22 04 2013

A really good day for a Monday.  I got a text last night from a friend from Jr. high that I caught back up with two years ago thru Facebook. He told me Rex died. Rex was one of those men that just scared the shit out of you. He was 6’6 probably 250 tatted up, long black hair in a pony tail and a deep booming voice. He had tattoos covering up scars from what we would call bad boy time in his life. He was married to one of the nicest, smallest women I have ever been around. She (Ms. R) was a round 4’11 probably 90lbs but could put him in his place. In high school he loved watching his Jackets play sports. He knew my dad and worked with him for probably 5 years and knew my dad had become disabled and kind of took me under his wing. He knew a lot of the things I was doing and didn’t want me to go down that path.

He has a son that died at 2 years old which had him spiral out of control. He took every wrong path you could, but he found a great women that no matter her stature she was able to breakdown the walls he created. He moved to Cleburne to work at the nuclear power plant my dad worked at. Some of the things he did in his past didn’t allow to have any more children and the women he married couldn’t have kids either so it worked well. My dad invited to watch my sporting events because I think my dad felt sorry for him but he really tried to be a father/friend to me. Sorry I’m rambling here but trying to make a point I promise.  He always praised my dad as I cursed or ignored his statement. I remember he always said that we will all make mistakes but we can come back. I used to think I could beat up anybody and one day I was talking smack and he said you think you could whip me and I said I know it.  About 10 seconds later and I got one punch in I thought I was about to die and  get my arm broken. I learned a lesson that day that there’s always someone who is badder than me.

The other lesson he taught me was about no matter what you do you leave a legacy. He had a horrible life until about the last 20 years and did things that even if I told you would tell me I was lying. I bonded with him because of our paths were very similar. His legacy was a bad one until he made “the change”. He told me once that when you’re laying in your casket you wont care about what they are saying about you but those whose lives you touched good or bad will. Your funeral isn’t about you it’s about those left behind. He said remember and make sure your legacy is something your proud of and what do you do to touch the world before deaths doors touch you.

I was reading FB before I started writing and this popped up so I knew I should write.

I’m trying so hard to change my legacy. I feel so far sometimes and I m so embarrassed but I working on “the change” which is forgiving me. I want my children and my next spouse to be sad when I’m gone but to know I touched the world in a positive way and made a difference. When the church is full of people who loved me and remember me it’s not about my stuff but who I was to them and who when they needed me I always extended the helping hand.

Last time I talked to Rex was last August when I got divorced. He told me he was proud where I was now and knew the divorce would come but I was changing my legacy. He said that I would change the world if I would forgive myself and I actually forgot that until last night. So as I pondered that all day today (Ms. R) called me to tell me that Rex died of a heart attack but with what he did to his body its amazing that he lived this long. She said he wanted to be cremated and they were going to spread his ashes up on the 101 in California and there was no need to come, but if I got to San Diego to let her know. She said 1100 people came to the visitation at the funeral home I guess he touched lives and left a legacy. I know he did on mine and as I think back about him today where he came from and where he left us that when death knocked on his door he had forgiven himself and is helping me to learn to forgive myself.

Sorry if this was rambling but this was a big part of my life that I needed to blog about. May not made sense but it made me feel better.

Matthew Winters (Comeback Pastor)

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