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    Weeping May Endure for a Night

    By Mark Roth on February 26, 2009 at 3:57 pm

    From a battered and neglected childhood, walk with the author as he wanders — often penniless — through the hippie drug culture and into the deceptiveness of the surface religion so prevalent today.

    See how Christ can break through all these barriers to give deep healing and peace.


    I pursued pain. Painful writing and music. Painful drugs. Painful relationships. Painful memories. I found security in pain. I created my image around pain. I kicked and abused my mind and emotions — constantly demanding more this time than the time before — till my mind, emotions, and personality were stretched, bent, and twisted beyond normal human limits.

    I emulated poets and musicians who used their pain and rage to gain them recognition. I was the King of Pain, and could out-pain practically everyone I met. I didn’t know how to get people to love me, so I used my pain to manipulate them into relationships. But these intensely painful relationships soon burned out, leaving me feeling rejected once again, adding another layer to my intense pain.

    I called myself a hippie. But I was so intense that even the hippies thought I was too wild for them. So I ran and ran and ran.

    I ran faster and faster, trying to outrun the pain that was waiting for me wherever I went.

    Where was I running? I didn’t know. I was searching for something. What, I didn’t know. But I knew I had to find it.

    Or die searching!

    Between 1970 and 1974, I drifted aimlessly from New York to California, from Florida to Oregon. Often homeless and penniless, I spent sleepless nights walking the streets, talking to myself, trying to find purpose in life. I would silently cry into the empty darkness, Where is God? Is there a God? What is life? Is there any such thing as love?

    171 pages. Harbor Lights. Phillip Cohen.

    Published in 1998.

    For more details as well as the option to buy: Weeping May Endure for a Night

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