Tag Archives: mental health

by | August 8, 2025 · 1:48 pm

I’d Rather Be Working; Not Working Is Hard

Do you have a hard job? Like, is it physically demanding? Are you usually worn out and too tired to pet the dog when you get home?

Well, I have a job like that. Granted, it’s not as difficult as loading garbage trucks. It’s also easier than performing a Christian funeral for Ozzy Osborn. However, it still takes a lot of effort and energy.

However, since the 18th of June, I have been doing nothing more than coming to work. I sit in the break room for 8 hours. Sitting here is where I am at this moment. It is harder, more draining, and certainly more boring than any physical work I could be doing.

Back on June 18, I was at work at the Volkswagen plant in Chattanooga. I pivoted wrong and twisted my left knee. According to the medical professionals, I have two meniscus tears and a sprained MCL. There may be even more damage to a tendon or ligament, or something. This happened on the job. Workers comp is taking care of everything. The onsite medical and physical therapy staff are also helping.

But here’s the thing: I still have to come to work, even if I don’t work! They are literally paying me my regular hourly wage to sit on my butt and drink coffee. I’ve even been able to do a lot of video editing.

And that’s the hard part of this employer-mandated rest. Sitting here for eight hours every day is making me tired and making me fat. I’m not getting the exercise that comes with working on the line in the body shop. My vision has gotten worse from constantly being on my iPhone in low-light conditions. But worst of all, there’s the paranoia. I just KNOW people are talking about me!

Then again, why am I complaining? As King David asked, “Why art thou cast down, o my soul?” As James prescribed, I should be counting it all “joy.” Well, I don’t know about joy, but I am thankful for a place to work that allows me this opportunity. Even though it may seem silly to those outside my body, the pain in my knee is still bad enough to make me lose sleep. I avoid going up stairs altogether.

So, unlike some bloggers who stop writing and fade away, I’m still here. I may be focusing all my free time on making video content. However, I still find that I have to write out what’s on my mind to stay sane. Just last night I renewed my annual fees for WordPress, so I guess I’ve even more reason to stick around.

Have a great weekend, my friends. Enjoy your health – if you have it. Spend time with your family if at all possible, and then go to church somewhere this Sunday (unless you’re Adventist). If you have some extra time, please check out my YouTube channels. They are called The Humble Horologist and The Humble Word. I’m even posting to TikTok pretty regularly.

God bless, and I’ll write again, soon.

Anthony

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by | August 5, 2023 · 4:26 pm

At Least VWs are Getting Built!

As I begin to write this, I am looking up to where it says, “Add title.” But I’m not sure what it should be. I am going to have to wait till I write a little more, I guess.

Two things have brought me back to the old keyboard: my new friend’s question and my questioning of what’s next.

My New Friend’s Question

If you read my last post, you’ll know who I’m talking about. There’s a sharp young man where I work with whom I’ve had some conversations. It was he who, while standing beside me in the “micro market,” asked, “Are you OK?”

Now, it doesn’t happen very often, as you probably well know – someone actually asking if you’re OK. I mean, it’s totally common to have people casually ask how you’re doing and not really expect an honest answer. And they shouldn’t expect it, either.

You and I do the same thing, don’t we? In passing, like an amplified “hello,” we ask, “How’re you?” without really wanting to receive a detailed response. All we expect is an obligatory, “I’m fine, how are you?” To which we always intend to say, “Fine.”

But this morning was a little different. My new friend asked if I was OK. He actually wanted to know! How strange! In a place with 5,000 people on any given day just trying to make it through their shift, here you have a guy who actually cared! So how did I respond?

Well, I don’t remember my exact words (his were more memorable), but I said something like, “I’m not that great.”

That’s when he told me he had noticed my lack of on-line activity (writing here, that is). So, here I am.

Questioning What’s Next

That brings me to the second of the two reasons I am writing this: I don’t know what’s next!

Here’s the thing, folks… I’m worn out. I’m tired. Primarily physically, but also emotionally. Everything from my new job (the main reason) to uncontrollable events, all have drained me so much that I have nothing to squeeze out. It’s literally taking reserve energy to type this.

If you want to know how bad things are, consider this: I am probably (90% sure) going to back away from the whole watch thing. Why? Well, for several reasons:

  • I’m too tired to make videos. It would help to have a dedicated, undisturbed studio, but I don’t, and everything has to be set up fresh each time I record. Then comes all the editing.
  • It takes time and money, neither of which I have much extra.
  • Even though I enjoy new watches, my last new one sucked the wind out of my sails when it exposed that I really didn’t want what I thought I wanted as the ultimate watch.
  • The economic suffering my friends in Pakistan are enduring made thinking of a luxury watch feel sickening.

So, if not watches, what? Back to painting? I wish – and hope! But again, with no dedicated place to set things up and leave them, it takes too much energy out of me to even get started.

And then there’s that whole “energy” thing. Did I mention that I worn out, tired, exhausted?

I don’t even want to study, which is the most tragic thing of all. Even though I have the opportunity to schedule speaking engagements, the thought of picking up a phone tires me, not to mention the mental fatigue that accompanies preparation.

Lastly, because this is already too long, I’m spiritually drained and feel like I can’t refill. My faith is under attack from several fronts and the battles are taking their toll. I’m not losing my faith, per say, but I do find myself wondering if I’m fighting the right battles.

If I could get more sleep, I would. But that’s a subject of its own.

But I’ll tell you this, at least some dadgum Volkswagen Atlas SUVs are getting built!

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by | December 17, 2020 · 8:53 am

My Leg Was Broken?

Not So Funny

Let’s begin with the not-so-funny part of this story, shall we? My right leg hurts.

Yes, it hurts, and it’s been hurting for a while. As a matter of fact, it hurts to cross my leg over my left knee, rest my right foot over my left, and even to walk. Generally speaking, my right leg – most of my tibia – aches.

That is why I went to an Orthopedic, yesterday. I wanted him to discover the source of the pain and to tell me whether or not I can go back to walking. Come to find out, the pain is muscle and ligament-related. The muscle that lies deep behind the tibia, along with the tissue that attaches to the side of the bone, is inflamed.

The sad part is that had I gone to a doctor about this pain a long time ago, it wouldn’t have had to get this bad.

The Funny Part

But here’s what I find amusing (I hope you do, too). When the doctor pulled up the x-ray, he pointed to some cloudy images on the bone. He asked, “Do you remember any trauma to your leg?”

“Uh, no, not really. Why?” I asked.

“Well,” he began, “do you see these two cloudy-white areas on the bone? This is evidence of a healed fracture. At some point, you broke your leg.”

Yep, you read that correctly – I broke my leg and didn’t even know it, or at least I couldn’t remember when I did it. Either that or I didn’t think much about it at the time.

Who has their leg broken and doesn’t remember it?

Now I Remember!

After a few minutes of discussing the pain in my leg, how to fix it, and such, a memory popped into my head. Totally changing the subject, I interrupted the doctor and exclaimed, “I think I know when it got broken!”

Back in the late ’80s, I was heavily involved in martial arts (the real-life Cobra Kai kind). I remembered this one time when I was doing drills with a new student, a BIG guy, who knew nothing of “control.” To keep the story simple, he did a round kick the same time I did, except with a good amount of power. Our shins locked with an audible “whack,” and for several days I walked with a limp.

it's only a flesh wound - it's just a flesh wound | Meme Generator

Imagine that! I fractured my leg and didn’t even know it! Well, I felt it, for sure! However, I didn’t have a clue of the severity of the injury – I just kept working out.

Eventually, I healed.

Time, Tibias, and Trauma

Before I say anything else, time does not heal all wounds. However, most wounds do heal over time, even the painful ones.

Only a fool discounts the severity of an injury, whether it be physical, emotional, or spiritual. And when it comes to trauma, what is terribly painful for one person might not affect another the same. Every trauma, every pain, every wound, though very similar – like one snowflake is similar to another – all are unique.

But the discovery of my long-forgotten battle wound has led me to ponder some encouraging truths.

  • Time can heal memory. For some people, the wounds of the past are as fresh today as they were 30 or 40 years ago, therefore the pain never goes away. But when we learn to focus on moving forward, given enough time, most of our hurts will heal and the pain, even the cause, will be forgotten.
  • Some trauma NEEDS to be forgotten. My broken leg incident probably happened between 1984 and 1985. If I had been talking about it, rehashing it, trying to figure out the why and how it happened, the trauma inflicted on my right leg would continue to afflict me, and others.
  • I’m so glad that, because of the blood of Jesus, God has chosen to remember my sin no more! Can you imagine what eternity would be like if the wounds inflicted by us were never put as far as the east is from the west? Yeah, it would be Hell.
  • Sometimes we are more broken than we realize. Fact is, my leg was broken and I didn’t even know it. It wasn’t broken in two . . . there was no bone sticking through the skin . . . but imagine what might have happened if I’d locked shins again in a tournament? What kind of life-threatening situation might I have faced? …and without a Mr. Miyagi!

Better than an Orthopedic

I’m sure we could go on and on with analogies and comparisons, but the fact is that all of us are broken in one way or another. Some know what complete healing is like, while others are still wiping away the initial tears.

Ultimately, Adam’s sin was the ultimate trauma inflicted on mankind; it left ALL of us broken. Unfortunately, though the healing balm has yet to be applied, many, many, many broken people don’t even realize their brokenness.

Then finally, there are those – praise God! – who are pleasantly surprised to be reminded of how God healed wounds that were once so painful the future, even survival, looked insurmountable. Sadly, some of those broken legs were brought about by our own rebellion . . . NOT the Shepherd.

Yet, isn’t it wonderful how He rescued us, picked us up and carried us until we healed, and never even brought it up again? Or did you forget?

Thank you, Lord, for this pain. I needed to be reminded of some things.

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by | May 12, 2020 · 6:51 pm

Wise Wisdom from a Woman-Wise Wise Man

Katie, Valerie, Alicia, and Haley

“As a married man grows old, particularly one with several daughters, he doesn’t lose his mind; he just acquires the feminine ability to randomly change it.” – A. Baker

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by | December 1, 2015 · 10:21 pm

“Maybe You Should Seek Counseling?”

The Atheist

Every once in a while I encounter one of those atheists. Those atheists are the ones who troll the internet in search of Christian blogs, their prime objective being to “enlighten” us (i.e., intimidate us into silence) with their browbeating, far-superior intellects and firmer grasp on all things biblical and theological. They are the bullies of the blogosphere, dutifully heeding Richard Dawkins’ call for mockery.

Today, one of those atheists made a comment on a comment I made on another blog. His tone was condescending, irreverent, and vulgar (in his particular shade), just as always. Then, after some purposeful sarcastic language from me (which is all he is now qualified to receive, for it’s obvious anything more is casting pearls before swine), he said: “You really do have issues, Anthony. Maybe you should seek counselling?”

My response…

“Ha! You don’t know the half!”

His reply…

“You are right, I do not. But maybe this is half the reason you sought your god in the first place, perhaps?”

My response…

“Actually, that’s why my God sought me (Luke 4:18).”

His final reply, showing complete and willful ignorance…

“Really? What were you doing, Anthony, lurking in a back-alley?”

I Have Issues

The thing from the above exchange that stuck with me was the comment about me needing counseling. If the truth be known, we ALL have issues, and I am certainly no exception. For that matter, I am well acquainted with counseling and counselors.

It wasn’t worth my time to go into any detail with the obviously antagonistic troll who only wanted to get a rise out of me. Had he been one who really cared, if it would have done any good, I might have shared with him some deeper truths concerning the atonement and redemption, of the God who came to seek and to save the lost, to heal the brokenhearted.

But he scoffs at all that. He is no sinner. There is no God to whom he must answer. There is no need for crutches; he’s not crippled!

But I am broken. I am wounded. I do suffer from scars. I do deal with painful memories. I don’t have all the answers when I hurt, much less answers for others. I long for ultimate redemption! I do struggle with temptation. There are times when I feel overwhelmed, afraid, helpless, and hopeless. And yes, sometimes my faith gets weak.

Sometimes I do hide from my God…in my thoughts…in my books…in activities…even in the occasional dark and secluded place – much like a back alley.

But then Jesus comes looking for me, saying, “Anthony, where art thou?“

My response?

“Here I am, Lord.”

His reply…

“I know, but why?”

My response…

“I was ashamed. I was afraid. I was angry at You, and myself, and angry I felt that way.”

His reply…

“Son, you’ve got issues.”

Me….

“I sorry…..  I’m so sorry.”

His still, small voice…

“I know, son. But hey! I’m your Counselor! Let’s talk about it.”

Then what follows is the kind of counseling those atheists will never be able to understand…because they don’t have issues.

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