Blessings

As I described in a previous blog To Hell..I will, Hell was one topic that held me hostage to the beliefs of my youth. Another one was the fear of loss. I was told many times that if I didn't behave in a way that "God" deemed appropriate, I would lose all that I had that I enjoyed. I was told that God would pull His "blessings" from me. As I got older questions about who's expectations I was meeting by my behavior started bubbling to my conscious awareness.

Being a person who enjoyed my stuff, my relationships, and my health, this was a very potent threat. I didn't want to lose it all, so I complied...well maybe it was more that I LOOKED like I was complying.

As I have shed many of my earlier beliefs and attempted to see God in a way that makes more sense to me, I have come to see that the thinking that says "if you don't comply, I will take it all away" does not match my experience of God. I have stopped saying that I have been blessed with anything I think I possess. Ironically sometimes it is the very things I possess that rob me of God's blessings! It may be those very things that I am fearful to lose that keeps me from following God more completely.

Now, when I talk about my life and the things I enjoy, I say "I am fortunate". Blessings to me are irrelevant to stuff we have. We make choices and there are consequences. Because of choices we can lose or gain relationships, health, and stuff. And sometimes there is truth in the bumper sticker that boldly proclaims "Shit happens."

Blessings to me are God demonstrating His love for me regardless of my circumstances. Blessings are expressions from God that He approves of me. Blessings are the hugs of God.

What are we saying

I drive past this sign every day I go to work. Today it read "God is as good as His Word."

At the time I saw the sign I was listening to a message by Rob Bell from Mars Hill Church in Grand Rapids, MI. He talked about participating in a mission trip that was designed to bring food and resources to the poor. There were some on the trip that wanted to know when they were going to able to tell others about Jesus. His response was "it isn't that we are not telling others about Jesus at this time. We are! The thing we need to think about is "what are we telling others about Jesus?"

I guess in that instant the statement changed to a question. "Is God as good as my word?"

Lapel flag pin

I was watching a news channel and 10 minutes was given to speculating about why Barak Obama no longer wears his lapel flag pin. They were trying to understand the signal he was sending to the populace.

The press seems to think that we as a nation are more interested in getting out cues from images rather than intellectual ideology. A more cynical person may believe that the press is attempting to dumb us down. And okay maybe it's me as I am actually responding to this story.

Hey press guys, since you are checking to see who has pins and who doesn't, let's be sure to know where they come from. Some of the ones I looked at were manufactured in China. THAT wouldn't be patriotic, not to mention the lead that may be in the paint. That would be dangerous to all the babies they are trying to kiss.

Clutching

I remember as a child being told a story about how to catch a monkey. You tie an empty coconut to a post or tree and cut a hole in a coconut shell big enough to get a monkey hand through. You then fill it with monkey treats. When the monkey attempts to get the treats out it sticks its hand in and clutches the treats. You can then capture the monkey because the monkey, once it has a hold of the treat, never will let go of it.

I was reading "Grace (eventually)" by Anne Lamott. She talked about holding on to things and having her hands full so she can't hold anything else. What a powerful picture. If I am all filled up with things that I think will fulfill me, then I have no hands left to recieve what God has to give me.

I find myself clutching things that I think will satisfy. Ultimately I know they don't. I don't know if I get caught like a monkey in a coconut shell hanging on to my junk, but I do know that if I don't have any free hands for God's wonderful gifts, if my hands are too full of my own stuff, there is no way to calculate the good things I am giving up.

Below the surface

I fixed my computer last night. I have a 12" mac powerbook that has had a problem with a fan coming on and the CPU running pretty hot. I asked a number of different people, even those at the Genius Bar if there was anything I could do about it. I was told a number of times that they just run hot, so I just accepted it.

What I discovered was a program that was running below the radar that was using up a lot of resources. And with the fan running, my battery life was pathetic, about 45 minutes if the fan didn't kick into high. In removing the program my computer instantly responded and has been running very cool. I got about two and a half hours out of the battery last night.

I was driving in rush hour traffic while listening to a podcast from Mars Hill. I was a little behind in my listening and they were in Lent season. The speaker was talking about facing different parts of your life. It was a meditative session and the speaking was quiet.

I on the other hand was frustrated by being cut off in a lane, a slow driver, an inconsiderate woman who wouldn't let me pass. Below the surface of my life is a reservoir of rage that can be covered up by socially polite speech, and the appearance of calm.

For many years I dealt with intense anger towards some significant people in my life. I would claim to work through it and "be healed". I wasn't. It wasn't until I entered into the anger and the rage and faced the monsters of bitterness, resentment, and rage, that I was truly able to move on. And in the process of facing it, it forever altered me.

My computer was a great metaphor for my life. Areas of my life continue to lay seemingly dormant, and by not dealing with them, it continues to hamper my performance.

Argument

When the argument gets tough, the ignorant get abusive.

Totalitarian

"You cannot change the totalitarian mind through dialogue or conversation, because totalitarianism -- however ingenious the superstructure of faux ideas with which it surrounds itself -- is a creature of the will and not the mind." Taken from an article about Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's visit to the US. http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/la-et-rutten29sep29,0,1222354.story?coll=la-headlines-calendar

I have some people in my life who practice more tyrannical attitudes in their thinking and/or behaving. In attempting to converse with them, I have made the mistake of believing that reason could triumph. Sadly the stark reality is quite the opposite. Any point I attempt to make to focus on truth is immediately rejected in favor of irrationality. While making statements designed to open up discussion, all it seems to do is pour fuel on a flame.

All that is left then is making sure that the tyrant's message is not legitimzed, protect myself, and leave the outcome in God's hand.

It is a good thing for tyrants when people don't think for themselves.

The safety bond

I just finished watching "Little Miss Sunshine" for the second time. It had been a while since I had seen it and I had forgotten how weird the family was, but also why I had liked it so much. It was a moving tribute to the resilience of families.

In the movie, the family is driving Olive, the youngest daughter, to compete in the "Little Miss Sunshine" pagent several states away. There were so many obstacles in their path, both on the outside, and what each person in the family brought with them in the form of emotional baggage.

The thing that struck me so powerfully, and brought me to tears is how we as families limp along. Families are so imperfect. It is not the weirdness of family members that breaks a family down. It is the lack of one essential ingredient. Is the family, at its core, safe? And while everyone in the family is responsibile for the safety of others, parents are the ones who model it and teach it to their children and are ultimately responsible for it's initiation into the family.

As this family limped along struggling with their own strangeness and conflicts, one thing was never doubted about the family. They were concerned for the physical and emotional safety of each other. In one scene mom had just explained to Olive that her grandpa was dead. Mom started crying. Duane, Olive's older brother, who was refusing to speak to the family, writes Olive a note that said "Go hug mom." That moment is so ripe with all the different motives involved and who was being affected. The way of handling it was strange. The point was that someone in the family was hurting and it was addressed.

I have worked with many dysfunctional families as a family therapist. What I was looking for in the family was to make sure the family was safe. It didn't matter to me what the family looked like to the outside as long as it worked on the inside. And the only way it could work on the inside is if EVERY member in the family practiced physical and emotional safety.

As an instructor I work hard to maintain physical and emotional safety of all my students. I don't worry if everyone gets along or even likes each other. But I will confront ANYONE who threatens the physical or emotional safety of my students.

Over the years, I worked with many families that when I got done, I could honestly say I was glad I wasn't a member of some of the families that were safe and nurturing. It, however, was working for them, and the proof was demonstrated by how connected the family members were to each other.

Turning corners

I was reading a post from internetmonk. com. The blogger, Michael Spencer, talked about some things that were said about him on another blog and sounded weary. He said he wanted to take the blog in a different direction, that the focus of his blog was not accomplishing what he had set out to do. He described it as turning a corner.

When a significant and painful event happened to me at a church we were attending several years ago, something inside me snapped. I felt an unhinging, a disconnection from the church I was attending.

I think back to significant times in my life. Many of them rotated on a single event. An event that changed my perspective forever.

It seems to me that growth isn't steady and prolonged. I may have understood that something needed to change, but I didn't see a need to upset the apple cart, until the ONE event. The change energy stood frozen, waiting for a signal that movement was imperative.

When the event happens, the way the world looks shifts in a new direction. And once that perception has been changed, you can no longer go back, because the world as you knew it no longer makes sense.

Stars

A friend of mine was talking several weeks ago about all the stars that are out in this amazingly large universe. There are so many unanswered questions that it is hard to even know what to ask.

The more I considered this, the more incredulous I become in considering people with incredibly narrow views saying that they know what God is thinking.

It seems to me to be the height of arrogance.

A word changes with age

There are words that change meanings over time. For example, "gay" used to mean happy and carefree, in earlier times. Now we know the meaning to be a term to denote a homosexual lifestyle.

Here's another word that I propose to the english language. Flashing. At a younger age this means displaying a part of your naked self to someone else usually in a public setting.

A middle age friend of mine asked if the room was warm or was it her. It is a condition of her age. She said it must be her, flashing. I jerk my head up. She smiles and says "hot flashing".

The weight of care

We took our toy poodle with us on our mini-vacation. My wife was apprehensive of doing so, because of the increase in needs.

I have long thought that having a smaller dog would be easier to manage than a larger dog, and in some respects it is. If I need to Coco can be held in my arms, away from danger or temptation. But smaller dogs are prone to anxiety and stress. Leaving Coco in a car can stress her out a lot. As she is stressed, so am I.

I had to concede that my wife was correct. The trip worked out fine, but there was an increase in needs to contend with. There were our needs, Coco's needs, and the needs of those in the other rooms of the motel, when Coco gave in to her barking addiction. It ended up being a lot of extra work which detracted from the vacation. It still was a fun time, but there was a bit of additional worry that drained some of our energy.

And in the end, when Coco got home she appeared very happy. With Coco there was no reflection over the weekend. She simply was along for the ride. She was completely unaware of the energy drain. When we were in the car or she was walking on a leash she was happy. If we put her in the car by herself, she got stressed. She would go again in a heartbeat, just like she will bark at EVERY doorbell ringing.

When you care about someone or something, you increase the load of the responsibility. If the someone or something is less able to care for themselves, responsibility goes up for the ones in charge of meeting needs and safety.

If it gives something back, the load feels lighter. If there is little given back, it can weigh you down.

I lived through retro

This weekend my wife and I went on a quick vacation up north. We decided that we would work on saving money so I found a motel that was of the old roadside variety. I made sure that the rooms were clean and that they would allow a pet. The woman I spoke to was pleasant with a sly sense of humor. I booked the room.

When we got up there, it was exactly as the website had stated so there was no disappointment at this point. It wasn't the Ritz, but it never advertized that it was. We went to dinner and walked around town.

When we got back, the room next to us was occupied and you could hear conversations through the walls. Every time voices sounded from the next room, Coco, our toy poodle, would "pre-bark" an agitated chuffing sound. There was a German Shepherd barking several doors down, which was Coco's "call of the wild".

I wouldn't describe the double bed as comfortable. Electircal outlets were hard to find (there were none in the bathroom, and there was no air conditioner. To cool the room down you had to open the window which let more sound in, to agitate Coco even more.

I woke up early morning with conflicting desires to get out of bed and stay in it. It hurt laying there, but I felt too tired to get up.

I have looked back on earlier days and motel stays with fondness. Less so now after this weekend.

Never, never, ever feed it power

In the movie "Gremlins" Billy receives an adorable furry creature called a Mogwai. He has to obey three rules as a Mogwai owner. 1) Keep it away from bright light, 2) Don't get any water on it, and 3) Never, never ever feed it after midnight. He disobeys with disastrous consequences. The cute little pet becomes an out of control gremlin.

Jesus came to earth to "show us the Father". The legacy he left was to serve to the point of giving His own life. He didn't build any buildings, or create an institution. He didn't write anything down. He spoke in stories. He left all control to others, mainly the twelve disciples. He talked about loving enemies and doing good to those who hate you. And then he left.

So why does the church have a legacy of violence? The only violence that Jesus was reported to do was to take after those who exploited the poor.

I think it starts when a church organization is given power. It starts out looking so right, so noble. This church can make lives better if we just were able to control the environment in order to do the good we want to do. And soon it spirals down into needing more control.

Because a church isn't a business it doesn't have the "normal" leverages that a business has. A business looks at production and cost and then motivates its workforce to carry it out. What does a religious organization produce? It is completely intangible. The church can't point to profits and seeks to make tangibles out of intangibles. It is left to devise what it wants its members to do. Once identified, the goal is to motivate. Because profits and losses are not a part of the church, there have to be other means. Those means then become guilt, shame, and fear.This extends all the way from killing heretics in the name of God, to shoveling fear and shame at someone who believes differently.

If you have faith, never, never, ever feed it power.

Faith in God

I am reading a book about several heresies that came up against the church and how they were squelched through violence and persecution.

Why couldn't the church just let the heretics roam? If the church has the truth, then why were they so afraid? This whole concept of faith in God starts losing air when control through guilt, fear, and shame enter the picture. It really starts to look like God is incapable to operate in our world on His own.

I know preachers who could preach for hours on having faith in God. But their NEED for control, invalidates all they claim to stand for.

Enlightened

"Is Jesus Lord of your life?"

What are they hoping to accomplish? Maybe they are expecting me to examine who runs my life. I'm wondering if they are really that clueless of the lack of relevance the sign has.

I asked a friend if a bulletin board with those words would motivate her to introspect more into her spiritual state. She talked about a church near her house with clever sayings on their billboard. While she finds amusement in the pithy statements, she has never once been motivated to go there because of the clever verbiage.

The times of the events and the bookstore hours make sense to me. The original use for the signage to announce when services are, who's speaking and about what are as legitimate as a McDonald's drive thru menu if you are a regular customer. SHouldn't you save those words for the assembled faithful and not using it as the latest advertising campaign?

I could say "I see the light!" but only at night!

I see London. I see France.

The headline today caught my attention for a moment of bewilderment. The headline I read was "Paris wants to stiffen sanctions on Iran".

What confused me was "Wow, how does Paris Hilton stiffen anything?" And then I instantly thought...No the city of Paris! Stupid me! The web site originated in France.

It makes me think that in our country we get a lot of drivel masquerading as important news.

Guardrails and frames

I was listening to a podcast the other day where the person was talking about apologetics, the ability to defend what you believe. I found myself very uncomfortable listening to it, my suspicion of any formula aproach to faith. However, without some definition to my faith it is like a body without a skeleton, a structureless blob.

Guardrails are the metaphor that come to mind as I think back on my faith journey. They held me in place and wouldn't let me deviate too far off the path. My view of God had to conform to the narrow parameters of the faith I grew up with. I kept attempting to break them down, to be able to break free of them. They kept springing up, restricting my thought about who God was and my place in His universe.
I have found a new metaphor for defining my faith. A friend of mine thinks about spirituality as being a frame, something to put around concepts and give it some definition. I like that. There is structure, but there is freedom as well when my concept of God changes or God redefines Himself for me. A frame can be moved to better outline another part of the picture, if it needs to be.

In my finite mind I work best when there are limits that are not limiting.

Caring for the elderly

I spent some time with a friend of mine. We were commiserating how life had changed for us over the years. We talked about changes in our marriages, our energy levels and the limits we are starting to feel in regards to employment.

As we were talking my cell phone rang. It was my wife. She was at the grocery store and wanted to know which brand of fiber cereal I eat.

There was a day when I wasn't so concerned about fiber. Now I get anxious when the box gets low. My how times have changed!

The little girl and the pastor

A little girl talked to the pastor in church on Sunday. She waited until the end of the children's sermon was over. She was unconcerned about the fact that she was holding up the next part of the service. The pastor didn't rush her. When she was done he kindly directed her to children's church.

At the little girl's age I found it endearing. I was amazed that the pastor didn't scoot her out of the way. As we get older we are encouraged not to act like that. We are very concerned about what others will think of us. Most of us don't act that way, but not because we don't want to.

If you want to enter the kingdom of heaven you have to have faith like these little ones. Oh to have faith like a child.

To Hell... I will

I saw a bumper sticker the other day. It said "Religion is for people who don't want to go to hell. Spirituality is for those who have been there".

In the last couple days I have come to a startling revelation. The concept of Hell has been a huge motivator for me. I have realized that the word "Hell" has guided me through my faith-walk. I was reared on the concept that if you don't do certain things then you would be thrown into hell. Not sent, but thrown. It was a significant enough fear that at an early age I continued to pray to ask Jesus to be my personal savior. Not because I wanted to know God more. Not at age 5. I prayed that "prayer of salvation" because I was terrified of being thown in hell. TERRIFIED! My parents were happy that I was "saved"

I can only imagine how many sermons I sat through as an infant and a small child and absorbed the "hell message". Some of what I have stored inside is at such a primal level that I cannot even access it. I remember very little about God's love, maybe because it didn't register on my "TERROR-METER and I was too busy being terrorized. As I got older I was terrified of walking away from the faith because I would be thrown in "hell". A dichotomy was set up inside of me. I wasn't sure I wanted the religion that was being modeled for me, but I couldn't walk away for fear of going to hell. And that fear controlled me.

I compare it to a movie where a secret word is implanted in an hypnotized man. Months or years later, the hypnosis forgotten, the telephone rings and the man lifts the receiver to his ear. The word is uttered, which snaps him back in the grips of that hypnotic state. Zombie-like he heads off to perform a heinous act.

That word that would put me in a near-zombie state was "Hell".

Part of my salvation has been letting go of that fear. I realize that God is love. Such love has no fear because perfect love expels all fear. If we are afraid it is for fear of judgment, and this shows that His love has not been perfected in us.

I'm kind of fuzzy at this time about what my final definition of hell will be and what purpose it serves, I'm not sure if people are sent there, or just choose to live there. I can see the points of each one. But I have experienced God's love and heading towards that love is so much more rewarding, honest, and satisfying than fleeing the flames of hell.

The hardest addiction to overcome

I read this joke on parsonblue.blogspot.com. How many addicts does it take to change a lightbulb? Only one. The addict holds the lightbulb up to the socket and let's the universe revolve around him.

I live in a comfortable world where things are pretty predicable. I sometimes ask myself what makes me so special. I have what much of the world doesn't have. And honestly I don't want to give up the comforts that I have.

If you cling to your life you will lose it; but if you give it up for Me, you will find it. It is hard to sacrifice my resources, my time, my stuff. I am addicted to the life I live. There is a fine line between caring for myself and clinging to myself.

Pigs

Britney's "pudgy", Mary Kate is "gaunt". Jordin Sparks (latest American Idol winner) is "obese"!

OH MY GOD! Who can win? Britney may have had a disappointing performance at the MTV awards show, but was she "pudgy"? I know a lot of women wouldn't mind looking like her. I said "look like her" not think like her.

Such mixed messages. One message that comes down through our culture is that women and girls are to focus on their self esteem and learn to "feel good about who they are", learn to "love themselves". How hard a job is that when the mouthpieces of our culture prattle on about what a woman should NOT look like? Rarely, if at all do they identify the epitome of their standards. It is easier to be critical than it is to be complementary. They probably look in the mirror and hate themselves as well.

It makes me wonder who the real "pigs" are.

Aced out by blue hair

I was breezing down the freeway. A white Malibu positioned itself on my bumper. A grey Mazda was to its right in the lane next to it. There was room for me to move over and set the Malibu free, which I did

What I noticed after I merged into the right lane was the Malibu flying past me and the Mazda with an aged woman driver had moved to my left. I wasn't too bothered by it at the beginning. However as we progressed she didn't move away from me. I pushed the accelerator pedal down and jumped 10 miles an hour faster than I going. Mazda grandma was still on my left.

I must confess that I see the highway as a chessboard, always looking to maximize my gains. I was amused with her that she sped up and slowed down to stay on my left. There was a car in my lane that was going slower than the flow of traffic. I punched the accelerator and attempted to get ahead of her and move around the slower car.

This crazy geriatric wench out-maneuvered me! She punched her accelerator pedal as well and trapped me in my lane.

At no time did she even look over at me. I would have given her my best "Grumpy Gus" look. I was forced to concede that this elderly woman had bested me. I grudgingly gave her kudos.

I'm looking for that Mazda for a rematch. All I can say is that she better have a double dose of Geritol for the next time we meet.

Impotent

(Thanks Andy for being the muse on this blog.)

Today the Bush adminstration labeled Bin Laden "virtually impotent". This from an adminstration that told us he was hiding in caves, not living the safehouse life. This from an administration that can't seem to find him and kill him making him permanently impotent!

God help us if Bin Laden ever gets an "virtual" erection.

Ecstasy

There were a lot of people in the room. It was really hot, the kind of moist heat that comes from people in a close place breathing.

There was a sliding door and the breeze flowing through was delicious. I walked over to it and felt the relief bathing me. My wife looked back to see me with my hands raised and an rapturous look on my face. She did a double take. I'm not known for raising my hands in a church service.

But I was, hands high above my head, not because I was lost in the singing. I was just airing out my pits. It was ecstasy!

Ramping up the freak factor

I stood behind a woman at the post office that I found myself staring at. I wanted to look away but I just couldn't. She was a senior citizen who looked like she was a hair band groupie. Her bleached hair at the same time was mulletted, spiked and poofed. It had the well coiffed look of windblown hair, but there was way too much evidence of effort.

She had on a yellow top that was unremarkable and somewhat covered by the mullet part of her do. Her pants hung off her boney hips. The back of her pants drooled off her butt. Her cuffs gently rested on gold pointy boots with stiletto heels stabbing at the floor.

I was awarded the chance to observe her because she was ahead of me in line, plying the postman with endless queries and struggling to make a decision.

Thankfully another window opened up to deliver the oppressed behind “Grandma Groupie” I got to the window and completed my transaction in the time it took her to reach her car.

It was a Jaguar XJ6. It wasn’t the newest model but it looked like it had been well taken care of. I realized that the car had aged better than she had. She started the car, backed out slowly, and within a minute was moving out of the parking lot.

What is it that possesses us to believe that looking the right way and having the right equipment makes us the envy of the assembly. I know there are people that lust after things that they don’t have yet. One problem is that once you go down that highway seeking to impress other with your stuff or status, there are very few exit ramps. The sad reality is that at some point there is a suble shift where you are no longer impressing others, just ramping up the freak factor.

Apples, PCs and the internet age

I went to Caribou Coffee today which has free internet access. I was going to drink coffee while ordering photos through a web site. Because I use an Apple computer it took me a while to figure out that if I wanted to load a group of pictures, I had to switch browsers from Apple’s Safari browser to Mozilla Firefox browser. I uploaded my pictures and then tried to send them to Target for in-store pick-up. I realized that I needed to switch BACK to Safari to have the option of sending them to Target. I was switched and in the process of ordering when I lost my internet connection BECAUSE Caribou has free internet access for 1 hour before it kicks you off and makes you purchase a minimum of $1.50 to get an access code for another hour.

Frustrated, I left the coffee house and headed to work where I could surf without time limits or additional purchases. It took me a little while to order the prints, which I did. I experienced a slight frustration of using an Apple in a Windows world.

I then switched over to my PC at work with Windows OS. I needed to make some calls and record them in my school campus program. Okay, I can handle this.

I started making calls. A window popped up saying that I was in the process of downloading automatic updates, which would require a restart at the end. There were two buttons: “Restart now” and “Restart later”. Of course “Restart later” was inaccessible. I thought it might become accessible when the download was complete.

Oh no! The computer promptly shut-down and restarted. I had to restart the program I was working in when the computer shut down. Aaaahhhhhh!!!!!!

But here is the kicker! A bubble pops up from the status bar telling me that a restart had been enacted because of the updates downloaded. WHAT THE HELL! Like I didn’t know that already from the download window AND the flippin’ restart??!!!!

For the hoops I have to jump through I prefer my Apple because while there are update notices and other things similar to PCs, at least I don’t have those damn bubbles treating me like a complete moron!

I prefer a personal touch

Reading the book "Eat, Pray, Love", one of the things that the author talked about was living in an ashram in India to learn how to meditate and pray. In her practice she identified some times where she believes that she encountered God. I wasn't there so I have to take her word on it, just as she has to take my word if I talk about encountering God.

Reading the book and wondering if she really did encounter God caused me to lose a little of my spiritual equilibrium. In my understanding of a much bigger God than I had previously thought, I began to wonder if God could embrace other faith practices as well. I mean, who am I to say God works here and not there.

Alan Watts, a philosopher and a Buddhist, talked about his concept of eternal life as being absorbed into the universe and living on as a part of everything else. I must admit that that sort of talk made me a little uneasy. Okay, REALLY uneasy. I don't like the idea of being "absorbed". I am a unique individual and I believe I have a destiny and relationships beyond this life.

In church we sang the song “Amazing love”. The song talked about how God was concerned about me and gave of Himself for me. Tears welled up inside me. I realized that I am wired to need someone to connect with. I don't want to connect with an indifferent cosmos. I need to know that there is someone who understands me even more than I understand myself, and cares about what happens to me. I need a God who can be my creator, as well as my protector. In some of my darkest hours, I have felt the comfort of a God who cares, and has walked with me and loved me through the shadows. God has felt as real and personal as any companion. In those times, when there was nothing left but God, I came to realize that God was all I ever needed.

I can't say that God doesn't work through other religions, but I can identify one reason I am a Christian. I prefer a personal God.

The meaning of control

I have had dealings in the past month with people who by nature are very controlling. Their motives are deceptive when they talk about their anger towards others they identify as controlling. I want to believe that they would have all live free. Yet if you listen long enough what you discover is that they would prefer freedom so they can impose their own control.

Control gives us the illusion of being safe. It allows us to erroneously assume that we can dictate the conditions of a given situation. We can't, but we feel comforted by the misguided belief that we can.

When I come to pivotal points, transitions in my life I realize I have three choices. I can attempt to impose control, which is an illusion anyway. I believe I have control by the force of my will, which I don't. Another option is to be victimized by it, a sense of reverse control, I seek control by imposing guilt or shame, by making others the cause of my pain.

The third option is to let go. This is a hard choice because it involves relinquishing the conviction of my control. It is scary. But it is by far the most freeing of all the options. In order for this to happen I have to believe that there is someone superior to us that is in control. For me that person is God and I rest in the idea that I don't need to control, because I am confident that He is has control. I am free if I am willing to let go.

It however strikes terror into those who choose the first two options. To them it is terrifying to live without their illusion.

Transitions

Once again in my life I am encountering transitions. When I experience them they can feel unsettling and unnerving, but if they are faced and defined, and I am willing to adjust, they can be beneficial.

It is easier when the transitions are of your own choosing, like leaving home or finding a new job. Sometimes though, when transitions are forced on me, like getting laid off or having to deal with an illness, it is tougher. I not only fight the adjustment, but my oppositional nature as well. I don’t like to have to submit, but in submitting, I find an easier path through the transition. And in doing my part, if I leave the outcome in God’s hands, that’s a load off me.

F*** power

In a documentary about the band Metallica “Some kind of monster", there is one part where in the movie where the drummer Lars Ulrich is asked to scream the “F” word into a microphone as loud and as long as he could for one of their songs. He screamed it out and it lasts for over 25 seconds.

When the scream started I felt an electric jolt. As it continued there was a stirring inside of me, as the anger deep down started to move. By the time the scream was over, it felt like wraiths were moving toward the surface of my emotions being beckoned by the "F" word.

Anger like mud in a bottle of water can be shaken and turn it muddy. It takes a while for the silt to settle again on the bottom, making the water more palatable. Calling it to the surface is important, but it is dangerous to summon anger with no plan for exorcism. You need tools to remove the anger and move past it.

In working with adolescents, the worst thing you could do with a person who was dealing with rage was to let them physically act it out by punching some other object, like a pillow or a mattress. What happened a lot of times is that the anger increased and was more dangerous.

There is a danger in thinking that we have dealt with our anger by stirring it up, when we haven’t and in fact it is lying in the depths waiting to be summoned again, usually quicker and more damaging each time.

It's all about relationship

In my relationship with God, I believe I am loved for who I am. Not only am I loved for who I am, I am also one of two that defines what the relationship looks like.

It is tempting to visualize a scorecard and plot "where I stand with God. That would be okay if God were my employer and giving me my yearly review to determine how much of a raise I should get.

I don't see God that way. It is truly a relationship and that involves conversations as to the meaningful components of the relationship. It really is between me and God. If we are in agreement with those components, then I can continue forward.

When our 4th child was born, we had a routine down in terms of what my job was in the labor room. My job was to raise or lower the volume on the TV when the contractions hit. Any other talking distracted my wife so I kept my communication to a minimum.

The nurse who came in looked frustrated at me that I wasn't being a good coach and would sit by my wife "demonstrating" what I should be doing. When she left, my wife would tell me that she had the strongest urge to smack the nurse. In our relationship we had worked out what needed to be done to allow us to move on in our lives. It doesn’t matter what the nurse thought; we were in sync. And that is what really mattered.

So I don't sound like I am twisting in the existential wind, following my analogy of my marriage relationship, there are some things that work better for marriage across the board, and following it is better than not following it, but ultimately it is an agreement between my wife and me as to how we are going to conduct ourselves in this relationship.

Isn't that the meaning of relationship?

The bully

Yesterday I was a bully. I wanted to go somewhere for lunch. My daughter didn't want to go there. There are very few places that she does like, but that is not the issue. I was caught between doing what I wanted to do and what she wanted to do. And I really wanted to go to a certain place, but ended up agreeing to go where she wanted to go.

After I made that assertion I went on about how frustrated I get when she makes negative statements about restaurants. I was strong enough that she thought about it and decided to acquiesce and go where I wanted to go. I settled down.

I used my position of being her father to guilt her into agreeing with me. In short, I was a bully. The victory I achieved wasn't very sweet, but to my shame, I didn't back down either, and at this time I haven't apologized to her.

I will need to apologize before I can repair the tear I made to my relationship with her. After all, I am the adult here, even if I didn't act like it.

The tailgater hater

I don't normally give away entrepeneurial ideas for free, but here is an idea for an enterprising investor.

On the road today I came upon a truck carrying a roll of linoleum. It had been wrapped in plastic strips. One of the strips had unravelled and trailed behind the truck a good 25-30 feet. No one dared approach his bumper.

What a great idea for preventing tailgaters. I think there should be some sort of ribbon material that you can let out like a trolling line that waves at windshield level of the car behind you. That would discourage a would be tailgater to keep their distance. You could actually control how far you want the car driving behind you. And with that kind of control, there would be less feelings of rage towards those who approach you.

One kink you would have to work out is how to deploy it in stop and go traffic. If traffic were stopped it would lay on the ground. A disgruntled motorist would have the opportunity to run over it and break off the troublesome piece. Rage could ensue.

Going down fighting

Someone really wants Senator Larry Craig out. He plead guilty to soliciting for sex in a Minneapolis Airport in June and pressure is being levied against him from everywhere to get him out of office. Not good to be close to elections as well as happening in the city of the Republican Convention. And by asserting that he is not gay, he has angered that population as well.

One more time a public figure has been caught with his pants down! (I'm sorry. It was just begging to be said.) One more time, innocence has been asserted. How long does it take for someone to realize that the ship is sinking and it is time to jump off? The media loves it because it drives a story and creates a challenge for them to uncover even more evidence, the latest being the audiotape of his arrest.

I think Bill Clinton had the scandal strategy down. Lie, until you get found out, only admit to what they have evidence to, and when it all falls down, wonder out loud what the big deal was. It isn't pretty, but it kept President Clinton in office. I mean, what's the goal here, to convince the public of innocence, or stay in office?

The gospel according to Mazda

This morning on my way to work I had to slow down to miss hitting the rear end of a pickup. The truck was doing 50 mph in a 70 mph zone. I changed lanes when safe and moved around the slow moving vehicle. There was a white Mazda ahead of the truck that was moving at a slow speed as well with the pickup on its bumper. Passing the Mazda and moving into its lane evoked high beams in my rear view mirror.

We all want justice. I feel the anger towards rude drivers. I don’t like to be taken advantage of, pushed or butted in on. And in my anger there have been times where I have sought to take justice into my own hands.

The Mazda illustrated the difficulty with seeking justice. Seeking punishment for the truck, cars behind were punished as well, and frustration was felt by an increasing number of drivers. I was driving at a dangerously slow speed because of the truck driver’s error. The bright lights could have been potentially dangerous as well.

I don't need to seek justice for myself. This I can leave to God. In seeking to mete out justice, it is never solely focused at the offender. Others may be punished for it as well, which could create a bigger pool of those seeking retribution. The energy I give out will be the energy that I get back.

I remember counseling a person many years ago that used to run people off the road who made him angry. One day he missed the other car and ended up driving into a tree. That is what brought him in for counseling. He thought he "might have a problem." What goes around comes around.

I don’t need to be the judge, because I do it badly and I don’t have the skill to surgically strike another, or it is employed out of anger or revenge. Also, there are times when I act rudely too and I need forgiveness not judgment.

Accepting yourself

I am continually reminded of a powerful truth about human nature. Many people would rather stick a needle in their own eye than face the truth about who they are. Substitute remedies are employed with the belief that healing is just around the corner. When the person becomes accustomed to the surrogate cure and it’s efficacy is diminished, the person is still left with the deep-seated need that has not been addressed. What they absolutely won’t do is admit who they really are and get help.

It is painful to look at who we really are. It takes courage to admit our faults and failings. And yet if we don’t face our imperfections, we remain in hiding from the outside world. Shame can hold us prisoners to our feelings and ourselves. Many believe that if they admit who they really are they will be rejected and that would be unbearable.

The truth is that they deceive themselves. They stay frozen in their fear and end up spending all their energy on deception and control, having very little passion left over to enjoy life. They stay unaware of the freedom that awaits them, ensnared in their own delusions.

There is no quick start, there is no short-cut. You need to turn the light on yourself and face the truth there. You need courage to accept and embrace all parts of yourself before you can truly be free. And that truth is able to set you free.

Right where I decided to be

Over the years, one of the things I have learned is that we end up right where we decide to be. I have worked with clients that have lamented what their lives had become, but if you follow their decisions it becomes apparent that the choices they made in their lives logically led them to where they are at that moment. Their complaints stem from the belief that choosing certain things should have led them in different directions.

I sang at my son's wedding on Friday and received a number of compliments on my performance. Years ago I had had to decide whether to move into promoting my talents more and spending more time away from the family or moving away from that ambition and being around my family more.

I chose to walk away from advancing my possible music career and focusing more on my parenting career. I'm not happy with the destinations some choices I have made have taken me.

But on Friday night I was happy to be where I was, and I truly felt glad for the choices and the sacrifices made. I lost a potential music career, but gained greater involvement in the lives of my truly amazing children. I felt honored that they wanted to include me in their lives. That is worth more to me than any accolades I could have recieved performing my music.

Answered prayers

"When God wants to punish you, He answers your prayers." Karen Blixen in Out of Africa.

"Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers." Garth Brooks.

I don't always know what I need, but I usually know what I want. And many times my knowledge of myself is so limited that what I want may not be what I need.

I guess the more effective prayer is..."Your will be done".

Fighting desire

The weather was very dry up north last weekend, which made it very comfortable for walking around and packing up dry tents, bags, and clothes. But the sun was hot as well and as I walked, I sweat. We were heading to a campsite about 3 miles away. On the way there we passed a few creeks that were as dry as a bone. When we got to camp and surveyed our water situation we realized that we were going to have to monitor how much water we drank: which we did.

As the night went on the bottles looked more tantalizing, but we resisted the temptation. The next day we hiked until we were by a stream. When we finally sunk our filters in the water, we couldn’t get enough water. All through the afternoon we drank, and drank, and drank. It wasn’t until late in the evening that I felt I had gotten my fill.

It was surprising how strong the desire was for something I couldn’t have. The body craved it and the mind desired it. Focusing on how much I was missing it only made it worse.

In my past I denied myself things to move towards a more spiritual plane, but I remember always fighting the urges, and when I succumbed, I would be angry with myself.

Instead of denying, I have found it helpful to ask myself “Do I really want this”, rather than saying “I can’t have this”. It takes a lot of energy to fight desire, and a lot of times I succumbed because I just got tired of resisting.

Ah, the power of politics

The 35W bridge has fallen. Not all the bodies have been recovered, and the fighting begins over what should be included with the new bridge.

After the riots that ensued with the acquittal of the police officers that beat Rodney King on video, Rodney pleaded “can’t we just all get along?”

There is a simple answer Rodney. No, we can’t. Not as long as people chase after power.

Katrina versus 9/11

In class the other day we were talking about flashbulb memories. These are memories that are seared into our minds in catastrophic events. We talked about being able to vividly recall what we were doing when 9/11 happened. One of my students thought that Katrina should be the new 9/11. I remember bits and pieces of the unfolding story of Katrina.As we talked about it, I admitted that it didn’t have the same impact as 9/11, and I wondered why.

Did 9/11 eclipse Katrina because of the scope of the tragedy was so much quicker on the timeline of the actual event? 9/11 lasted a number of hours, Katrina stretched on for weeks Was it because the class and race of people affected? Was it that one made us feel more vulnerable?

I think we felt vulnerable when the planes flew into the buildings. I remember looking at the sky and wondering what else was going to happen.

Katrina was horrible for the cost in human life and misery. It was telling in how it ripped off the scab of our society and gave us glimpses into parts of ourselves. It may be something that we as a nation may be working hard to forget because it is a side of us that we don't like to admit. But it didn’t make me feel vulnerable. 9/11 did that. When I think of the Mississippi Gulf coast devastation, I think of the dangers I face in the region I live in, and the dangers I don’t face because I don’t live somewhere else.

9/11 revealed the dangers I face being an American. And I wonder if African-Americans look at Katrina and feel vulerable as well?

A change of perspective

Hanging around the campsite I found a log at one end of fire ring. I sat down on it and it felt sturdy. After a minute, without warning it rolled slightly to the back. Head went backwards and feet went skyward.

The ground behind was soft and I stayed in that position to allow the other campers to laugh without feeling rushed.

While I lay on my back I stared up at the trees that surrounded me. From that angle the birch trees looked majestic. They looked so regal and timeless. And the tops of the trees appeared so far away.

Years ago I owned a compact Toyota pick-up. As I pulled it into the apartment complex parking stall, two boys were sitting on the curb. When I got out, one of the boys said, “Wow, it’s Bigfoot”. I grinned at him and thought of how cute he was. It wasn’t until later sitting on the same curb eating a sandwich I saw the truth of what the boy was saying. From curb level my compact truck appeared massive. All it took was to see the world from his angle.

While I’m sure I looked ridiculous lying on the backside of the log with my feet in the air, for me the environment had shifted in an instant and I gazed at a whole new world. Sometimes you have to look hard to see things differently, and sometimes it comes on the flipside of a log.

Leave no trace

I went backpacking this weekend, and I want to let you know, I practiced "leave no trace" philosophy. The philosophy states that if you venture out into the wilderness, you should have so little impact on the environment that people could not tell that you had been there at all, leaving the world in the pristine condition you found it.

I proudly proclaim doing my part in "leave no trace". At the trailhead I parked my car over a Mountain Dew can sitting in the middle of the parking stall. We were gone for two nights. When we got back to the car, we slowly pulled out, leaving the can in the same pristine shape that we found it in.

No one could tell we had been there!

Forgive me for being so forward

I get frustrated by e-mails with headings like "I am sending this to you to see how many actually read their e-mail." Got to love the misspellings at the end. Why does it matter to you whether I read my e-mails or not. What if I don't? I can tell you plain and simply, if you want to send me a note to let me know how much you care about me, thank you. Turning it into a poll, a competition, a survey, or a promise of personal gain, earns it a trip to the trash.

One of my personal favorites was an e-mail from a friend with the heading "You are one of eleven people in my life" and it was addressed to 16 people. When I shared that with her she laughed hard and said "I hoped you hadn't noticed. I just couldn't select just 11 people."

I struggle as well with "soldier forwards". I know how important it is to remember the tremendous personal sacrifices soldiers have made. Maybe, instead of being invited to send the soldier e-mail on to your entire contact list, we should sent personal notes of gratitude to the soldiers themselves. I know that the family member of mine in Afghanistan is in the forefront of my mind most of the time, and I don't need an e-mail to jumpstart my appreciation for him.

Sadly we are a nation of convience. It is easier to forward than to express in our own words what we think and feel. I guess I put as much energy into reading something as someone puts into sending it.

Reporter, social worker, and missionary

I listened to a radio report about life at Scenic Trails, a post-Katrina FEMA trailer park. Hopelessness and despair ran rampant in the park. Several of the people the reporter interviewed talked about wanting to kill themselves, but hadn't done it yet. It was painful to listen to. What the reporter did really well is document the many layers of issues that the residents are dealing with and was very clear that this wasn't an easy or a quick fix.

In the segment the reporter talked to residents, a social worker, and a missionary. The reporter reported on the conditions, the social worker said that the residents needed to move out to escape the poverty and despair. The missionary stated that conditions were pretty hopeless, that residents come out but there appears to be little change. When the missionary was asked about the suicide comments, they attributed the comments to attempts at manipulation by the residents, admitting, "the only reason they are saying that is that they want something from you".

All three had a message of salvation. The reporter believed that if she were able to create an awareness of the plight of these people, people on the outside would be compelled to help. The social worker believes that if they can just get enough money to break away from the pit of despair they would be healed, but there is very little if any money to be able to deliver them. The missionary couple believed, even through his cynicism, that if the residents would just embrace their version of the gospel, they would be delivered.

The plight of these poor people is most likely a mixture of the three. Some of their problems are that they have been forgotten, they don't have the money to spring themselves from this environment, and enough belief in themselves and a God who would love to heal them and give them the strength to move ahead.

All the while they sit stuck in their misery.

Foundations

In the town of Rogers I have been intrigued by a lone graveyard that sits amidst graded lots awaiting construction projects. A Cub grocery store and a Lowes hardware store are close to the site. The church is long gone. All that remains are the tombstones and a gravel road that surrounds it.

What that graveyard reminds me of is that we are all building on and around the remains of those who have gone before. I don't know who the dead are, and what they did with their lives. But they lived at one time, and they built connections, both positive and negative, and those who have come after have constructed their lives on the foundation of what they were given. In the construction the offspring have either continued the road on, or took their lives in other directions.

None of us start from scratch.

Only in the Midwest

In this state we have been known for "Minnesota Nice", the idea being that people in this area are just nicer to others than other parts of the country. Because of all the conflict fearing Norwegians in the region, people here would rather die than create a conflict.

Several days after the bridge collapse in Minneapolis, Don Shelby a news anchor icon in the region talked about Minnesotans response to the bridge collapse and the heroism that ensued. He said the phrase should be changed from "Minnesota Nice" to "Minnesota Guts". I shook my head in disbelief for Don who should have been embarrassed for himself. I thought of how insulting that must be to people all over the world who had approached disasters with the same sense of bravery.

Here is what he could have said. One woman's car was missing and was presumed dead. After a couple days someone got the idea to call her work phone to see if anyone had heard from her. The woman presumed missing and dead answered the phone. Her car had fallen into the river, she swam to safety, had gone home and reported for work the next day.

Now that is a trait of midwest people. Everyone here is so darn reliable. I propose a new phrase for Minnesotans, and this woman can be the poster child of the phrase; "Midwest Dependable". This is defined as even though your car went into the river in an unprecedented bridge collapse, you almost lost your life as you fell and then swan to safety, even then you felt the need to show up to work the next day.

Now that is definitely Midwestern, handed down through the generations by hardy folk who endured many obstacles to survive in the sometimes unforgiving plains.

In a split second

Our neighbors who just delivered their baby talked about getting to the hospital. After uncertain days about whether the baby was coming or not, the process started. The husband had just gotten to work some 50 minutes away. His wife called to say her water broke and she was heading to the hospital. He turned around and headed home.

On his way home a semi truck in front of him blew a tire, flinging rubber in random directions. Before he could do anything a large piece smacked into his windshield shattering it, leaving a hole in it and spraying him with glass shards.

His mom came down to pick him up. After showering the glass off himself at home, he left for the hospital, leaving the car on the road for the tow truck to pick up.

We are positively reinforced each day we live with the absence of catastrophe, that we are immune from calamity. Our neighbor's experience along with the bridge collapse this week in Minneapolis, illustrates an idea we don't like to think about. Our lives hang on a moment.

A split second can change all that thinking. And in the aftermath of tragedy we sit stunned and dazed saying "I can't believe this is happening to me! And for a brief span of time we experience the fragility that is truly our life. A clarifying moment of truth when disception is difficult, and we see with appalling lucidity how much of our life we really do control.

A split second can change your life.

Low commitment protest

On the road there were a group of protesters holding signs up and pleading for the war to stop. "Honk if you want peace" the neon signs read.

I want peace. Not just around the world but in my own life as well. I want peace...so I honked.

I don't know that it helped any of us.