I'm tired.

I'm tired, man...real tired.

I'm tired of watching, tired of waiting, tired of sitting on "go".

I've been here many times before. It's all too familiar. This is the part right before I go off. And everytime that happens, it is worse than the last time it happened.

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Ummm, do you have any idea how crazy you sound right now?

Yes...I do. Mmmmkay?

(cue the awkward silence)

I've always been a very observant person. I tend to notice trends in individuals and group behavior which, I must say, has steered me away from trouble more than a few times. It's like I see what people are doing and talking about now and based on that I visualize what they will be doing and saying later. It also works in reverse...I can observe people that I have just met and see how they became the way that they are now. Do I do this all of the time? No. I run into far too many people, and I don't have the time and I certainly don't have the inclination. The gosh-awful truth is that some people are just not that interesting to me. I'm sorry, but it's true. Those plastic thugs hanging out on the corner with their pants just one be-bop away from being around their ankles? Mullet-man (the shirtless version) with his sidekick main squeeze Betty Lou, gun rack in the back with the rebel flag tint? Or how about Ken and "Buffy" with the v-necks tied at the waist pushing the stroller through the organic park on their Segways? Yeah, uhh, no. People like that would be hilarious if they weren't so tragic.

I know what you're thinking ("Gosh, he's so F-I-N-E!"...no? Dang, ok...) and, no, I can't predict when someone will die, how many fingers you're holding up, or the winning lottery numbers, but a few remarkable things have happened. However, I can't pat myself on the back for it. While some predictions seem to just be the result of me considering the situation, the people involved, their past actions, and coming up with a logical judgement call, there have also been times where it is blatantly obvious that the prediction did not come from me. And what about the times where I have received info in advance, but I was only able to realize what it meant after the event actually occurred. However, my absolute worst experiences have been when information had been withheld from me which caused others and/or myself to suffer because of it.

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For example...


Back when I was still in public school, there was this kid my age that lived a few houses down on my block. We'll say his name is "Lowell". Well, Lowell and I had been friends at one time but had bumped heads and weren't exactly on each others Christmas list.

I was walking down the street one day and Lowell called me out. I don't remember exactly what he said, but it was enough that I couldn't just walk away. I'm a "Rayburn", folks...and a "Rayburn" don't just walk away (some kind of mental defect I think). Anyway, I walked over to him, words were exchanged, things quickly escalated, and it was on.

He never hit me. Oh, he was swinging, but he didn't hit anything but the air. I ducked, dodged, and avoided everything that he had. That cat was launchin' some mad bricks. And it wasn't because he didn't know what he was doing. That dude had some moves on him. I mean, he wasn't no Bruce Lee or even a Bruce Leroy, but this wasn't his first time to throw down.

So...what happened? I anticipated Lowell's every move, and I mean his EVERY move. It was a trip! Before he would move, a preview of what he was about to do flashed through my mind giving me time to react well in advance. I ducked, he swung at the air. I moved left, he lunged to my right. At the time, that whole moment seemed almost dream-like. And to top it all off, I never even tried to fight that dude. I could have taken advantage of my situation, but I didn't. Man, I could have really messed that dude up.

Anyway, after he wore himself out shadow boxing he looked at me and all he could do was yell, "JUST GET OUT OF HERE!" So, I laughed right there in front of me, turned my back on him, and walked off. That dude even tried to hit me with a rock after I walked off about 75 feet away, and it would have hit me if I had not already seen it coming--my back still turned to him.

I know that whole thing really stung his pride. A few months later he started spreading the word that he had been working out, sparring, and he wanted another shot. I didn't even pay him no mind. I had done worse to him than beat him down when I showed that he couldn't win even if I didn't throw a punch.

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But in my darkest hour...


2007: Everything was great. I had just spent a wonderful Christmas vacation with my daughter, got a new job, and anxiously awaiting the arrival of my wedding day. All things seemed to be running along in harmony and tuned to my happiness. I was cruising the freshly laid asphalt of East Street with a crystal blue sky and the top down. There was nothing visible on my horizon to stand in my way...until I realized that I was in the oncoming lane.

I'm not going to get into the particulars as to who and why because I don't want to risk reopening old wounds with anyone, but basically here is how it went:

On my wedding day, we had no more than said "I do" and family trouble started--at our wedding reception. There was no shame and no regard to respect in how we were treated by this person--we'll call him "Manard". I couldn't figure out why or where it was all coming from, but it didn't stop there. When we got home, it continued right where we left off. For days and months it persisted. Arguing, crying fussing, and fighting. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE HAPPIEST TIME OF OUR LIVES! But Manard made certain to make it the most miserable time of our lives and because of my acquaintance with Manard, I was being forced to find another place to live. However, my finances at the time left me seriously limited on my options.

"Why did I not see this coming? How could Manard had hidden their motives from me so well?" and other similar questions remained unanswered for months. On top of it all, everyone but my wife and my sister had forgotten my birthday. I've never felt so alone and unloved in my whole life.

One night, I couldn't sleep and I ended-up curling up on the bed with my wife while crying uncontrollably like a baby. The whole time I just kept repeating over and over to her, "I am sorry. I am so sorry. I am so sorry that I got you into all of this. I'm trying to fix this, but I can't. I don't know what to do. I am so sorry." She tried to comfort me and tell me that everything was ok, but I knew that kind words weren't going to solve anything. Things had to change, and in a hurry. Something had to give and there was no hope.

That was the only time in my life when serious thoughts of suicide had ever entered my mind. I can remember specifically crying while I prayed to God and saying, "Just take me now, God. Please just take me now." My rationale said that if God took me, then I would go to Heaven and my wife could get the life insurance money and have a better life. I had always thought that anyone who considered suicide had to have some kind of mental condition. Never had I imagined in my wildest dreams that I would be driven to this point. My two options were: (1) pray to and trust in God or (2) end it all. There was no other way.

About two months later, I'd had enough and it all came to a head. I found myself yelling and screaming at Manard like I had never done to anyone else. I have beaten the ever-loving crap out of people and been less mad. Manard had better be glad that my respect for one other individual was greater than my anger--that's all I have to say.

Furthermore, my wife and I found ourselves without a place to live, but that's when things started looking up. My sister, brother-in-law, and nephew opened up their home and lives to my wife and I. I thank God for them! May God always bless them. When we had nowhere else to go, they allowed themselves to be used by God to provide for us. I will never forget the sacrifices that they made for us, and I will always be grateful for them and for God. I shudder to think of what may have become of my wife and I had we not had such Christ-like and God-fearing people like my sister and her family in our lives. As long as I have anything that they need, then they will not go without.

About two years later, my wife and I were in our own home. We were back on our feet. Our relationship with Manard slowly became restored. Most importantly, I gained a greater appreciation for God.

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I said all of the above to say THIS!


I firmly believe that God allows me to know what He wants me to know and when I need to know it. He will also keep me from knowing things that I would want to know when it is better that I do not know.

God revealed all of Manard's motives to me and why he did what he did. All of it was selfish, and I have prayed for Manard so much. I even fasted for him on several occasions. Not that I think that I am more spiritual than anyone or closer to God than others--I know that I am certainly not. I just wanted to illustrate how much I still care for Manard even though he did all of those things to us. I forgive Manard. How can I do that, you ask? I have a better question: How can I not? With all that Jesus willingly endured, the beatings, the ridicule, being tortured, torn to shreds, nailed to a cross lifted up high on a hill between two thieves so as to humiliate Him in front of the world and HE FORGAVE THEM! If Jesus did all of that willingly (He could have stopped it at any time) so that I could be forgiven by God the Father, then who am I to withhold my forgiveness from anyone? Only a fool will not forgive.

Two things kept me from following through with suicide: (1) I did not want to leave my wife in that predicament and (2) Romans 8:28.

"And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose." (Romans 8:28)

Not only that, I know why God allowed all of those things to happen to me and my wife, but I won't post it here. Like everyone else, I am a sinner and I had fallen back into my sin. I was not paying attention to the things I was supposed to and taking care of the things that God had placed into my charge the way that I was supposed to. IT WAS ME WHO WAS SELFISH! And I still am to some degree, but God is dealing with it in my life now that I am open to improvement and that is why I can say that I thank God for all things--even tragedy.

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Back to my original point
(way up at the top of this article)


During my late teen years, God allowed tragedy in my life and recalibrated my attention. By my early 20's, I was so thirsty for the knowledge of God. I can remember many times my prayers would include something like, "Please, Father, give me a discerning heart to determine between good and evil--even when evil masks itself as good and good can be mistaken for evil. Please place inside of me a 'want' to know your knowledge and wisdom." And man did He! The Lord has allowed me to learn so many things. I often feel like I see the world from a unique persepctive because of it. I'm not trying to brag or anything here, I'm just stating what has happened. I asked God for something, sought it out, and He gave it to me--overwhelmingly!

I mean, how could anyone not help but look at the world differently after they've been made aware of things largely unknown by the greater part of society because they discarded it or never considered it? Not only that, but since I tend to notice trends in individuals and group behavior, my mind naturally tries to piece all of these things together in an attempt to figure out what is coming next.

No matter how much God allows me to know, I also know that the vast majority of people that I try to explain these things to do not understand what I am talking about. More to the point, when I start talking about the 6-day creation, the Annunaki and how they relate to the Book of Enoch, the Greek meaning of 666, and the Gog/Magog Invasion (coming soon to a tv near you, by the way), people react normally in one of three ways: (1) they look at me like a worm just bored it's way out of my forehead, (2) their brains completely shut down and resort to "ok, yeah, and uh-huh" for the rest of their part of the convo, or (3) a very small portion are interested and want to contirbute and/or learn more.

So, in order to not lose a whole lot of people. I simply point out what is happening in current events and how it relates to Bible prophecy. It's simple, to the point, and people grasp it a whole lot quicker.

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Ok, but why are you so tired?


Ok, ok...

In a nutshell, I'm tired of standing watch. I am tired of standing on this wall and seeing the enemy preparing for the attack. I'm tired of cleaning my weapon in anticipation of using it. I'm tired of all this "horse and pony show" happening inside the walls that I stand on while watching the hordes of lean and hungry combatants gathering outside of the wall just on the other side of the perimeter.

I'm tired of sounding the alarm and no one listening. I'm tired of standing alone. I'm tired of the disbelieving and ridiculing people that I am standing on this wall for. It's as though I am standing on this wall between two enemies: those goading me from the inside and those preparing to destroy us from the outside--and I'm tired of it.

Frustration threatens to overwhelm me. Only one instance in my life can I make a comparison of this to. When I was in the U.S. Army, I was stationed overseas on a 1-year tour. I was assigned to the "most forwardly deployed unit in the world" at that time. We were always within reach of the enemy. So much so that we were constantly placed on "alert" which means that we had to drop whatever we were doing, grab our gear, and be ready for combat. This would happen over and over. There was no time when it might not happen. What made it worse was that the people that we were there to defend mocked and hated us. There were a small few who seemed to appreciate what we were doing for them, but the majority was as vicious as the enemy. At that time, I was caught between two enemies...and I was tired of it.

One night at about o'dark-thirty, the division was awakened for an alert. I got into full battle rattle and grabbed my weapon. For hours we remained at the ready for anything, then, at about daylight, the alert was called off. Our company commander explained that the alert was called because an enemy soldier had been spotted trying to cross the perimeter. We shot and killed him because he would not drop his weapon as ordered. The guy was probably just trying to defect, but we didn't know it. So, we killed him because he wouldn't drop his weapon.

Let me say that again--he wouldn't drop his weapon. And that is the whole reason why we were on alert at "OH MY GOSH IT'S EARLY" in the morning! This one person got up and decided to die in the middle of the night just to piss me off!

I lost it. In the general direction of where this guy tried to cross, I walked--hearing the hollow thud of my kevlar helmet as I bounced it off of the ground. I was chunking gear off of me all around, but firmly holding onto my M-16. The whole time I was rattling off a barrage of cuss words, threats, and otherwise derogatory comments at the top of my lungs in the general direction of where I perceived the enemy to be. I was so tired of everything that if I could start a fight with the enemy and get this thing started, then let's go.

"COME ON! LET'S GET IT ON AND GET THIS OVER WITH! IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOU, I'D BE BACK HOME ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD RIGHT NOW WHERE I AM SUPPOSED TO BE!!!" was probably the most socially acceptable words to come out of my mouth at that time.

Of course, eventually I settled down, but it felt good to vent. After some time, I reflected on the whole situation. I thought about that enemy soldier. That guy had a family and while he wasn't as far away from his family as I was, he probably didn't get to see them either. Maybe he'd had a moment just like I did where he'd had enough and wanted to confront the enemy no matter the consequences.

Maybe he was "tired" too.


I'm out,
Watchman