God's Not Dead

God's Not Dead

            For a while in my life, I intensely believed there was no possibility that a God existed. Growing up, my life has been a constant battle. I noticed, at the time, that children my age were not going through what my older brother and I had to endure. In an extraordinary way, these moments would later help me develop to become a strong, independent individual. As time progressed, I saw myself becoming more distant to God. I observed my life and the lives of other good people and noticed one common thing; all these people underwent constant complications in their lives.

At this point, I asked myself, “Why do bad things always happen to good people?” I questioned the existence of a god. Many people, amongst these my mother, attempted to persuade me otherwise. No matter, I was set in the notion of a universe with-out a higher being. Free will was an explanation to all the chaos the world held; yet, I countered with, “If an all knowing, all powerful god does exists, why would he allow free will if he knew it would lead to malicious acts and chaos. If free will is true, then there is no bigger plan. Therefore, either he has a cruel sense of humor or he simply does not exist.” Life had thrown many curve balls at me, along with some change-ups, and I was hitting nothing but foul-balls. I lamented the mishaps in my life. They were, by the most part, out of my control. My parents filing for divorce, losing my home, and relatives passing away, it seemed like the worst timing and it couldn’t have any greater purpose; or so I thought.

 Two years passed as if they were seconds, I was laying down ready to sleep and I began pondering. Through my mind rushed the thoughts of near death moments I had escaped in the past three years and how it was something greater at hand or blind-luck. As I played with the concept longer and longer, I noticed my gratitude unraveling’s to this higher being. Next I know, I am having intricate conversations with it. As of today, I like believe that I am not alone, that this powerful being has a plan for me and is assisting me to achieve it. This mentality has opened my eyes to the multitude of possibilities and has helped me strive to improve myself. I have also opened up to my mother more and I believe I have helped her cope with these losses. 

Fast Food

            In my childhood, eating out was not a common scene. As a kid, I announce my hunger to my parents’ in an effort for them to take us to McDonalds or any fast-food restaurant. Yet they always had the same response, “There’s food at home, you can wait until then.” This response would always irritate me to the point where I would cry out of anger for not satisfying my craving. On rare occasions, they took us to a restaurant or a McDonald’s. Usually, we would go to a Denny’s or an IHOP after Sunday church. I suppose, as a child, I did get what I wanted to an extent. I struggled with obesity all my life and looking back it was a struggle where I didn’t put up much of a fight. I was showing addiction characteristics towards these foods. I would go on tantrums when I didn’t obtain a happy meal from McDonald’s, or candy bars from the store. It was the complete opposite when I did get my hands on them, eating the mouth-watering chicken nuggets was like quenching a thirst. I felt like I needed them to survive. My parents worked long and hard and by the time they got home were too tired to deal with us. The last thing they wanted to hear was screams of an upset 6 year old, so they pleased me.

            Now at 22, I know that a lot of these products are harmful and for a while I was eating greens and fresh foods; little to no fast-food or processed foods. I even cut out all juices and sodas, and drank nothing but water. I did notice a difference in the way I felt on a daily basis and it was great; but, it does cost more to eat healthy. At the moment, I am not earning my regular wage and am in a budget so if I can feed myself for five dollars, I will. My older brother has gotten me into the habit of eating out on a constant basis. We go to Chilies, Fridays, Hook-Burger, or Toppers. It is the only way that my brother and I get to spend time together; even so, we both get fed up with the persistent foods and crave home-made food. With the change of eating habits I have today, I have noticed a change in my overall mood and a laziness feeling. I have put on several pounds, and not being able to work out due to my back problems has affected my confidence level. I can see the grasp fast-food industry has on individuals. The reading has shown me how it had me at such an early age and how difficult it is to break free from the hold. It is like a drug and those that are in the grasp are addicts to the problem. It’s a constant struggle to avoid the fast-food establishments because they are all around us and growing exponentially. 

What Would Jesus Do?

At twenty-two years of age, I was working a respectable job with full benefits. I saw this as a great accomplishment. No longer living with my parents, I saw all this as a huge step into adulthood; yet, deep down I felt something missing. My morning drives to work consisted of a fresh brewed coffee scent, along with an earful of the Rico and Mambo Morning Show. It was a drive like any other and I was well in time to work. The morning was still young and the darkness filled the sky.

While on Fifth Street, traffic was expected. Even so, the cars were moving smoothly through the crowded intersections. Closer to the stop light, the traffic was heavier and I should have acknowledged it would be an issue. The white sedan I was tailing abruptly broke to the right. As I saw this happen before my eyes, I thought to myself, “brake left but stay on this side, you don’t want to get hit by oncoming traffic” and my body executed the plan precisely. Glancing through my rear view mirror, I attempted to grasp the distance of the car behind me, but to my surprise, it was on my tail and the bright headlights quickly approached my rear bumper. Luis, the driver of that car, managed to break right onto the dirt shoulder. I let out a sigh of relief thinking I was out of harm’s way. 

To my surprise, I was not. Little did I know that Linda, the driver of the car behind Luis, was preoccupied with another task and by the time she looked up it was a second too late to stop. She slammed on her breaks in an effort to squeeze between my car and Luis’s; however, her efforts where of no avail. The screeching the tires made in an effortless attempt to grasp some grip as it slid over the cold pavement is still, to this day, vividly engraved in my head. I recall thinking to myself, “please don’t let it be me” and shortly after feeling the impact of the crash as it whipped my body and sending my car various feet forward.

The adrenaline rush you get in a situation like this is like no other; I felt my heart hammering and all that ran through my mind was, “why me? I’m going to be late to work now.” All three cars involved in the accident pulled over and we all inspected our cars to look at the damage done. My car was the only one that got hit by Linda. Luis’s car only received a couple scrapes. The rear bumper of my car broke off, the floor of my trunk was crumpled up, and because of this it made it difficult to open trunk. Linda’s car was, from the looks of it, a total loss as well. The front end of her car was wrinkled up; radiation fluid throughout the cold morning road, headlight glass scattered all over the pavement, the front windshield was shattered and airbags were deployed. The smell of burnt tire filled the air around us. From what I saw, it appeared as if she had smashed her head on the windshield.

I approached her to see how she was holding up. I asked her; “Are you ok? Is anything hurting? Do you need me to call an ambulance for you?” As she was tightly clamping her wrist from the pain, I could see the panic in her eyes and the nervousness in her voice was overwhelming as she kept replying, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. When I looked up it was too late.” At this point, I didn’t care much about myself or my car; I simply wanted to reassure she would be ok. I comforted her, “its ok, the cars don’t matter. Are you ok though? Do you need me to call an ambulance or call someone for you? Are you in any pain? Did you hit your head?” She glanced at me with a nervous stare and I saw the pain in her eyes as she told me with a crackling voice “yes, my wrist and head are hurting. I just called my husband and he’s on his way here.” I noticed her wrist was swollen, bright red with a hint of purple where the wrist bone would be; Linda’s hair was all over her face. Out of curiosity, I asked her if she was wearing her seat-belt. She assured it was on. Linda had used her hand to position it on the windshield to prevent her body from flying towards the window. As for myself, I noticed my lower back was feeling sore even through the adrenaline rush. My upper back was feeling oddly hot and my neck felt a bit off. When the paramedics arrived, they inspected her first. Shortly after, they asked me if I needed them to take a look at me; I informed them how my back felt and the paramedics assumed it would be whiplash, and suggested to go in for a further diagnosis.

            Some weeks after the accident, I've looked back and asked “why me?” yet there really is no right answer. Some people would go through it and see it as a setback. As for me, I look at it in the form of a blessing in disguise. Yes, my back will never be the same again. That is a huge downside and no matter what is said or done, nothing will ever fix that. Nevertheless I remain optimistic and try to live my life as best I can. After I had an MRI done on my lower back, my chiropractor wanted to talk to me about the results. This whole time I was thinking to myself, “I hope it’s nothing major.”

Judith, the chiropractor, looked at me and looked back at the images. Building up the suspense to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore and I uttered, “Give it to me straight doc.” I had a significant hernia on a disk in my lower back as well as a disc that was pushing against a vain. Little was known about my upper back, but I had three options for those two discs: an injection (cortisone shot), surgery, or hoping it healed by itself. Judith speculated that healing on its own would be a long shot and most likely a longer process. With this news, I was crushed; what will I do with my life now? What have I done with it so far? I’ve lived three years on my own with no help from my parents and I’ve managed to get a better paying job with benefits. I had placed my academic goals aside. This was my life goal and because of my new “better” job I had put everything on hold.  Although I was doing well on my own, I wasn’t really happy with what my life had become. Living solely to work, earning merely enough money to pay for my bills. Simply getting by wasn’t what I wanted for myself. I’ve always sought to go back to school and achieve my academic career, but with the job I was in, school was not possible. The hours were too much; to try and balance school while working 50+ hours was not an option. Before the car accident, I was stuck in that world without an exit. I was trapped in this life style. Having no one to share with what I was enduring, I felt utterly alone.

With the news of my back, I knew something had to be done and it got me thinking. Rent was unaffordable anymore; I was forced to act quickly. Mentioning this to my mother and brother, they offered to help. Suggesting moving back in with my mom was my brother’s idea, my mom agreed. “It will be best for you mijo” my mom assured me. In a way, I saw this as a failure; I could thank my pride for it. Yet there was nothing more I could do but accept it and keep moving forward. With all the doctors’ appointments and tests, I saw no upside to it all. Moving in with my mom got me thinking. This was as good time as any to start working on my future and begin my long academic journey. The situations that unfolded wouldn't determine my future; on the contrary, it would be a new start. Tracking back, it was this tipping point where I would decide to keep working a blue collar job or work on my academics. A blue collar job is simply not what I would want to see myself doing for a living anymore.

Self-evaluation is good from time to time. Taking a few moments to look in the direction our lives are headed and deciding whether or not we are at peace with that. Many won’t do so and realize later in life they should have done so. As for me, I am in constant pain and have difficulties doing day-to-day activities. On the other hand, I now know the direction I am now on is what I want and with hard work the outcome will be rewarding. Without this accident, I’m not certain I would have had time to reflect on my life; meeting my girlfriend would not have happened. For this, I’m grateful.  

I Do....I Think.

While many people see divorce as an ultimate factor for younger people to prevent marrying, I see it as a factor to a social problem. It is true, in the 1960’s both women and men had fewer options economically, educationally, and to an extent who they married. I say to an extent of who they married because racism was still a factor in some places. In today’s society, most men and women are empowered with choice. Birth-control pills have given women, in now-an-age, opportunity to decide whether or not they are ready for motherhood. This allows them to pursue their academic careers and it gives them time to plan when they want to start a family. With a chance to follow their academic journey, women have a fair chance to obtain a well-paid employment. With this, women in society now-a-days can be economically independent and not having to rely on marriage as a source of income like the women of the 60’s would.

            When we think of marriage, we think of monogamy; they go hand in hand. However monogamy in mammals is not scientifically proven. It is thought that sexual monogamy goes against our biological structure. Though, personally, I don’t know of any one that accepts being cheated on and being nonchalant about it. I believe that when you marry someone, you entrust them on an intimate level; infidelity is a form of betrayal on that trust. Today’s society depicts marriage as more of love notion and rightly so. Love drives people to situations they otherwise wouldn't see themselves in.

            Mexican lawmakers proposed marriages with expiration dates. The proposal takes away the significance marriage originally held. While a lot of people may see this as a good alternative to divorce, in my opinion it is a bad example to set for future generations. In past times things that would break wouldn't

 necessarily be thrown out and replaced by a new product; the same was said about relationships. When relationships faced problems, the couple would work on their disputes and fix them. In today’s society, people faced with the same dilemma would much rather start all over as appose to fixing it. There’s a saying, “the grass is greener on the other side because they water it.” It takes nurturing for a relationship to prosper. It’s a relationship of two and it takes both of them to maintain it. People give up when things get tough and stop nurturing the relationship. If you look at any marriage that ended in divorce, you will see one person who stopped caring about the relationship and thus the marriage began to crumble. I believe that if you intend to be in a relationship and expect it to last, you should be yourself from the start. Some people will not accept you, but it will only take that one person to accept and appreciate every aspect of your persona. If both of the people in the relationship are themselves and truly open up, that relationship will only get stronger. The next step would be living together. Some say that you don’t really know someone until you live with them and it is true. It is a different environment as contrast to simply dating. It will be a preview to your marriage life together. From there, it makes it easier to decide whether or not you would be happy marrying that person or not. I believe that knowing who you marry is vital to a long and happy marriage and prevents so many divorces. Marriage is not alive nor dead; it’s what we, as individuals, make of it. After all, it takes two to tango.

Yo, Sapiens!

My full name is Jesus E. Sapiens, but my friends call me Sapiens or Sapes. The nickname originally started in eighth-grade in Mrs. Ramirez first period Physical Education class. She was a sport fanatic and coaching was in her blood, because of which she called several students by nicknames she had designated to them. She told me she liked the name and enjoyed pronouncing it and asked me to get used to it as she would no longer refer to me by my first name. It shadowed me to high-school where I played football. One of my previous classmates whom attended eighth-grade with me, also decided to play ball. The coach over heard him calling me by my last name and it stuck. From that point on, the only names my teammates ever called me where either Sapes or Sapiens. To them, that was my only name and when I introduced myself to a new person they would correct me and say “his name is Sapiens, not Jesus excuse him”. The only sets of people to ever call me by my first name were my family and girls. Whenever I introduced a girl into the group and they overheard her calling me Jesus, they would go senseless. “Who are you talking to? We don’t know any Hey-Zues!” Now that I think of it, it’s amusing how far others would go to preserve my nickname; after all it was my nickname not theirs. My last name comes from the Latin word Sapiens meaning wise. You might have also heard the term Homo sapiens, meaning the species we originated from. Yes I have encountered people in my life time attempt to tease my last name and all I reply with is; “do you even know what Homo sapiens is? Do you even know what sapiens means for that matter?” and most often than not, they wouldn't

 know. I’d explain to them that Homo sapiens is the species from which we originated, and sapiens was a Latin word that meant wise. I felt the need to defend my last name and carry it high because my father and his father did so. Carrying my name high and being proud of it was something I have, still to this date, that connects me to my roots, to my family. Hearing it over the intercom on those Friday-nights were the best feeling; I felt I was making my family proud. I was taught that a man’s legacy is his last name. You could have not accomplished much in a world scale, yet if you managed to keep your last name going, your legacy would carry on. All in all I am proud of being a Sapiens, and I will gladly and proudly carry the last name, passing it to my children and so on. Many people change their last names and not necessarily for marriage purposes, mainly because their past has affected them in a negative way; by changing their names, they feel some sort of escape from their past life. To them it is easier to forget what they have endured. Personally, my life has not been an easy one, nevertheless I am grateful. Due to those life lessons, I am the person I am today and I wouldn't change that for anything.