It’s been six days since using cannabis last. The Lord is merciful. Everyone knows pot isn’t addictive but I’ve always loved it since high school in California (1969).
Seems to me like God has been making a clear path for me out of the cannabis culture, of which I will be forever grateful.
Makes me think of that 2nd time getting lost in the jungle behind my house. Thought I would pop down below my house and cut some pine poles for my backyard fence (5 minutes, tops). An hour later, ended up very lost in a dense part of the jungle. One thing was very clear, I needed to follow the slope of the land, and proceed uphill. For certain, downhill was the seashore (could hear the waves crashing). Was so glad my machette was plenty sharp.
Took a while, with lots of effort. Was able to hack my way up, one baby step at a time. Buried tightly in vegetation way over my head, noticed a narrow beam of light shinning through all the gowth. Inching forward, looked up again – could barely make out something not green, what looked like a small section of a familiar looking building, maybe a house just like mine.
Proceeded slowly and steadily up, pretty sure, the way out was not far. Kept inching up, hoping not to hack into a nest of bees. (Note: bee stings in the States, were nothing compared to these on Rota. Here, they’re like an intensely painful high voltage shock)
It took some time, but finally cut myself a path to the edge of the jungle. Wow, my next door neighbor’s backyard!
Couple months later, was talking with a good friend who hunts coconut crabs in the jungle between our housing area and the seashore. He said something like, “Jerry, found a really good path, blah, blah, blah” – that same one.
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