The Descent

March 8, 2021

In this story, hell is set in a CNN newsroom. The funny thing is, I always thought the underworld was being produced on Tucker Carlson’s show on the Fox News network.

For the past number of months, my wife, friends, and colleagues have said my behavior has been erratic. To me, everything seemed normal. I always had a reason to do the things I was doing, but something seemed to be off to them.

The past three years have been rough on the Hamilton family. Judy was released from her job of 34 years. I was fired from my job (although technically, I was forced to resign) after eight years. My father passed away; I had a significant stroke. In other words, life became complicated, my job was reduced in hours due to the stroke… you get the picture. We were under a wee bit of stress.

On the day of “The Descent,” I woke up feeling refreshed. I felt like it was a new day, a fresh start. I had the creative idea of breaking things. My youngest sister puts stuff in a barrel and shoots things when she is frustrated. I was not frustrated but wanted to express starting over. I took a few photographs and dropped them to the ground, and knocked over a statuette or two and a candle which made a lot of noise for such an early hour in the morning. My wife walked out, groggy, then panic set in. Panic gave way to fear, all out unadulterated fear.

We had my sister-in-law and her husband over for lunch whenI began to get belligerent and started saying crazy things. It was decided to go ahead and take me to urgent care. Judy called our son Josh was in town to go with us. I became more and more agitated as they tried to get me to the car. Josh said this whole event was scarier than when I had the stroke. I put up a valiant effort in the struggle, but in the end, they won out. Apparently, I did pretty strange things in the waiting room that only convinced everyone that I needed to be there. They did an EEG that confirmed I was having brain seizures.

The scene that ensued was such a far cry from my personality that anyone that knows me well will have a hard time believing what followed. The hospital staff wound up putting me in soft restraints because I was spitting everything I could get in my mouth at the nurses and doctors. Apparently, applesauce reached as far as the television. I was claiming thirst to get water in my mouth so I could spit and drool, believing that where water would touch, the cameras would pick up what looks like blood for the news broadcast that would be filmed as more and more people came into the room. At this point, I was completely lucid. I believed what I was seeing was real. I was on CNN and broadcasting what seemed to be an exorcism of the demon of child molestation inhabiting the two nurses in the room. I was using every possible combination of the F word and leading the song 10,000 Reasons to basically the entire believing world.

I was calling out every hypocritical Pastor, college presidents (including Jerry Falwell, Jr.), and Donald Trump. No one dared step out onto the judgment platform.

Then everything changed. I’m not sure when it happened or that it happened the same night. I was in the presence of Jesus, although I did not see him. I felt comfort, love, and peace. He spoke to my troubled heart and soul and spirit. Although this was a dream, it has produced authentic action in me. Things I’ve struggled with for years seem to have disappeared. It’s very unusual, but I believe God is doing something concrete in my life. I am entirely open to talking about this with anyone over Messenger, a cup of coffee, or better yet, sitting in a 104° Jacuzzi. Let’s chat.

Here I am, Lord.

Use me.