Counseling

 

“Speak to me, I’m here to help you.”

…. (Tears)….

“Please, Burn. Don’t cry. You always have words to say to me. Have you written anything lately concerning your pain?”

…. (Shakes head) ….

“Why not? And this time speak. I don’t want your gestures or your body language to answer?”

“It doesn’t help anymore.”

“Writing doesn’t help you anymore?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Last get together, you said writing was one of the two reasons you were alive, the other reason was God. What do you mean it doesn’t work?”

…. (Tears) ….

…. (Moves from across from him and sits next to him on the couch) ….

“Burn, stop it. You’re one of the toughest and positive people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I don’t have any favorites, but I love speaking to you. You’re honest and speak your mind, so please don’t deviate from that now. You even said that you can’t keep secrets inside because it bothers you, so tell me. This is why you are paying me.”

“Tell you what?”

“First, tell me why writing isn’t helping anymore?”

“It used to work. Writing began in the form of poetry for girls, but it evolved soon after my father’s departure to stories. It became a part of me, it was in every thought and heartbeat. It led me places so far away from this world that only displays pain. I wrote not because I loved it, but because I needed to. I wrote to get away from my circumstances, my mother’s circumstances, and my brother’s circumstances. I wrote because that was the only place I found joy consistently. Writing for me was like drugs to an addict. Now, it doesn’t take me to the temporary places where I forget about life problems. I can’t elude the pain and the suffering anymore.”

“But, remember, you believe in Jesus. You said you believe in the process.”

“I did say that, but sometimes my sayings are not true. Like I said before, my writing holds all the truths of my life. Yes, I said I believe in the process with my mouth, but does my heart do? I never written about the process and in my alone time, I pray to God to take my life because I hate the process. I hear the devil whispering in my ear saying, ‘When you were in the world, it wasn’t this hard.’ Writing doesn’t make that voice go away. I say I want to go home and that’s my heart speaking. Forget everything else. People want to preach, people want to perform miracles, people want to dance in synagogues, but as for me, all I ever wanted is heaven.”

“Wow, this is a complete turn around from what you said a month ago. What happened?”

“This life that was bestowed upon me happened. I can’t hold it in anymore. After the death of my father, Cancer taunts me because I still haven’t recovered. Depression, sadness, sickness, attacks, and etc. ensued right after. I continued to be the toughest and most positive person I can be, but was I truly happy? You see the story behind the smile you always see when I come in here and what the public sees is deeper than you think. Look beyond the white illuminous smile and you will see a child crying about his losses and pain he has held throughout his life. Eighty-five percent of the time my smile is just to cover the wounds I have. The rest you can say is genuine.”

“So, your smile doesn’t represent hope?”

“For me, it just covers the pain. People have asked me how can I be so joyful all the time. I respond, ‘Easy, I can keep a secret.’ People say I give them hope when I smile because they say that I smile through trials and tribulations because I smile everyday throughout every season. They say my smile embodies the verse that says smile through suffering. But, they don’t live with me. I don’t smile when I’m home alone. I don’t smile when near the water. I don’t smile when I’m being real.”

“Okay, what will truly make you happy, Burn? Tell me?”

“Me leaving this earth right now.”

“No, Burn. Stop it, you cannot be serious. That means you will have to die.”

“So be it, this life has nothing for me.”

“You know what I think?”

“Go.”

“You’re just going through a phase where your fortitude is being tested by more hardships. This is molding you and you don’t even know it. Burn, knowing you for a short while and knowing everything that you have done has been amazing. You can’t give up and I know that deep down in your heart you don’t want to. You quoted someone that said we as humans weren’t born to live and die, but to leave a mark, to become legendary. So, all of a sudden, you don’t want to be legendary anymore?”

…. (Gets up, ready to leave) ….

…. (Grabs his wrist) ……

“Where are you going?”

“It’s time to go.”

“We have all the time in the world. We’re not leaving, until we find the source and the solution.”

“The source is life. Everybody goes through it and the solution is heaven. Can you let go now?”

“No, sit down.”

…. (Sits down) ….

“You’re better than that. You face your problems face to face.”

“You’re right. You know I have done some horrible prayers.”

“What do you mean?”

“I prayed for God to send a meteor to kill all of us, so I could go home. And, for world war three to happen, so I can get killed by a shotgun.”

“Burn, are you seriously crazy?”

“You wanted me to speak, so here it is. I retracted from the world war three stuff and asked God to forgive me, but that goes to show you how bad I want to go home.”

“Look at me and answer the question about wanting to be legendary. Do you?”

“That was the ultimate dream, yes. But, what are dreams and goals? I don’t know anymore. The process to become legendary is like climbing a mountain. You do your best to climb all the way at the top because that’s when you conquer life, but few people do. I climbed to reach the top, so many times. Many distractions on the way and many burdens I had to carry. I sold my soul to become legendary. I gave up all the easy paths to do it the right way, but here I am, at square one again, climbing to be legendary once again. Every time I fall to my death, it’s harder to climb up each time. At least, I did my best, right?”

“Yes, you did climb, but that wasn’t your best. It can be your best if you decide to resign and give up, but you want to climb again. I know you do.”

“You’re probably right. I can’t stop now. My purpose is to suffer, that’s about it. Even if I reach the top of the mountain. I bet there will be another mountain waiting.”

“I know, its difficult, but that’s the price you pay to be to become great. Don’t let the process keep you down, let that passion that made you do it in the first place lead you.”

“You said this is a phase I’m going through, but it’s not. A phase is just a temporary thing. This is an everlasting thing, passed down from the beginning of humankind. Suffering on this earth is inevitable, but it’s how you get out of it that counts. You see I could have made a deal with the devil or did my own thing, but instead, I chose what was and still is pure. But, for what? The seeds are still in the soil and nothing has produced yet. ‘It’s my fault’, yeah I heard that one before, but I’m doing my best. I guess that doesn’t count sometimes in this life.”

“What happened in the last month for you to say what you’re saying right now?”

“Breakthrough is not for me.”

“Breakthrough?”

“Suffering and pain is a part of everybody’s life, and I understand that, but when you believe in something that claims that it will lead you from suffering and never does and you’re truly doing your best to follow that something, then something is wrong. Yes, they say, ‘Take it patiently or a little while longer and it will happen’, but when? I’ve seen my father suffer my whole entire life. He suffered the nineteen years I saw, doing his best to provide for his family. He was a taxi-cab driver. My mother suffered as well throughout her whole life, doing her best to keep the house after my father’s death. I feel sorry for her and all I want for her is for her to be happy. They believed in God, just as I, but like me no breakthrough. Forty-eight years he lived and no breakthrough. Yes, beautiful house, but soon a burden. Yes, we have been blessed, but I don’t care about blessings, those are temporal. A breakthrough is what we have been looking for because a breakthrough changes the situation of one’s life.”

…. (She lowers her head) ……

“Wow, I wanted to surprise you with some news because you impacted my life, but I don’t think I should say it.”

“You’re making me curious, nice tactic, tell me?”

“Our last encounter was… I don’t know how to describe. Everything that you said was true and I believed. I went to a church nearby and I gave my life to Christ. I just wanted to thank you for that. And one more thing, I’m getting baptized there this Sunday and I wanted to invite you.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. I hope you’re not discourage because of what I said. I didn’t do anything I just said something that came from God and you believed because it was the truth, so don’t get discouraged because of me. Jesus said, ‘He is the way, the truth, and the life’ for a reason. Just continue to believe because we’re all different. You have a process and I have my own. Just pray that you are levels above me because I have a curse that needs to be dealt with. You don’t want to be on that level.”

“Really, Burn? I can only do so much. You need to go to your leaders at your church and seek help because you are talking out of frustration. They can help you.”

…… (Gets up and walks to the exit) ….

“Hold on, am I going to see you again?”

“Pray that you do.”

 

 

 

April 2017

Instagram: @burn_in_sky

My Story

 

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July 3, 2013 – March 28, 2014

Testimony (Bernensky Pierre)

It was Wednesday, July 3rd, 2013 and it was 2 in the morning. Doorbell rang, I answered, and I got the news that my father passed. For weeks, I was oppressed and did nothing about it. I sat in the dark and cried alone every day I woke up. Soon I thought I got over it and believed I was back on my two feet, but I really wasn’t (Occasionally depressed and discourage). Now since my father passed away, I really didn’t have anyone to talk to. I didn’t like talking to my mom about certain situations because I needed a man’s perspective on things. My brother was young and we didn’t talk about anything serious, so I replaced my father with lustful conversations. I thought this would be harmless, but it soon got out of hand. Lustful conversations turned into a desire for intercourse (Fornication). I believed this would help me get through the pain and grief of my father, but the pain only increased like water during a flood. I was looking for the solution through girls to fill a void, a space, which expanded as wide as a tropical rainforest. The void was love.

I recognized that this was a problem and did my best to stay away from fornication. I did my best, but my best wasn’t good enough like a good competitor against an unstoppable force. I felt like I was fighting something that I was never going to defeat. I always found myself committing the deed or resorting to the second option (masturbation). It was a sensation that only lasted a few minutes and it only assisted the pain, thoughts, and scars that came after my father’s death. I didn’t know why this was happening, it was hard to explain. I always had a thing for girls, but not like this. Every second and every minute I was thinking of how I was going to receive the pleasure that would never fill me up. This desire was after my well-being like a cheetah preying on baby calf. This was an addiction, I needed help like a patient having trouble to breath. I continued to fight those nagging thoughts that said, “Call her back, she’s willing to give it up”, but those thoughts were too overwhelming. The images in my head were even worse, pornography. Sometimes, I went long stretches where I found myself free, but I really wasn’t. The girls I was dealing with were just like me, no father. My mind soon became accustom to that sin and I always felt guilty because it was one thing for me to know that I was going to hell for what I was doing, but to also realize that I was bringing someone along with me.

I went days struggling with this situation, until my childhood friend, Jacques, told me to come to a House of Peace in North Miami in October of 2013. He invited me before, but I always canceled on him. I wanted to go because he made it sound interesting. I also had the problem that was kicking my butt every day, so I decided to go. I went and there I saw teenagers, just like me. He told me that this was a place where teenagers and young adults come together and pray and worship God. I got there early and nothing was happening because it didn’t start. I had Goosebumps because I didn’t know what to expect. Suddenly, they turned off all the lights, and then I heard music that I had never heard before. I drifted to a corner and I watched these teenagers cry out to God. They were crying, begging, and pleading to him, asking him to forgive them. I prayed for my situation before, but not like that. I usually gave God five minutes a day. This was for an hour and thirty minutes. I soon felt comfortable because I wasn’t the only one that had a problem. Everyone had a problem, but unlike me they brought it before God. I said to myself, “I want to be like them.” That night I prayed the longest of my life. I told myself, “No more playing around, it’s time to change.” After that night, I thought everything was going to change like a full transformation. I prayed every day after that, but found myself committing the deed again. I soon became discourage and had a thought that said, “I don’t deserve God and I shouldn’t pray because what’s the point when I’m going to do the wrong things anyway.” I stopped praying for myself and prayed for others that I thought were better than me. I lost hope and I quit, taking my life back into the shadows of depression.

Sometimes, I went to the House of Peace in North Miami, but I was never really in to it. I just lost belief in myself, but Jacques continued to communicate with me. One day, he told me that there was another House of Peace in Coconut Grove; this time it was a rented place. He told me this would be more epic than the one in North Miami and indeed it was. It was March 27, 2014 and there I saw a few people dancing, others in the corner praying. It was as if they were in a other world, another place, while they were dancing and praying. Their eyes were firmly shut as they moved to the rhythm of the songs that were being played. These people were so into it. I started to think about what I’ve been through throughout my life, the good and the bad. I was thinking about what was cool and what was not. I asked myself, “Why can’t I be like these people? They want to do good, but I struggle with the term.” As I thought about my life in the past, the lights were opened and it was time for the word, but first all new comers had to come up for prayer. I went up and they took all the new comers outside and they prayed for us. Before they prayed, there was this girl that told her testimony. She said she had cancer and as soon as those words came out of her mouth there was a pain that struck me in my heart. Meanwhile, she continued to explain how it disappeared because of God. One night, she came to this House of Peace. She wasn’t a believer, but when they were praying for her she felt a fire inside of her. Couple of days later, she went to the doctor and they were astounded when they gave her the news that her cancer was gone. When she initiated the story with “I had cancer” I almost started to cry like all those days I was in my dark room crying over my father’s death because my father died of cancer. That testimony made me believe again and I thought if God can do that for her than he can turn my problems into cake. All of sudden, I had a desire to be with God and the next day I confirmed it at King Jesus Ministries on March 28, 2014.

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