Inner Conversations

There was a little boy named Ruller found in the Flannery O'Connor's short story The Turkey.

Nothing he tried seemed to work. As is common to man, he yearned to be a hero and a conqueror, and this would of course lead to the accolades of his family. But every time he gave himself the luxury of this fantasy, he would be taunted by the skeptic within. The skeptic thinker conjured up a tyrannical and sinister God, setting up a bar just out of reach and getting His pleasure of watching Ruller reach for it and miss. This God was capricious, punitive, and ultimately one who set us up to lose.

The most interesting part of the story for me was not his outer conversation but his inner one. Come to think of it, this is probably the most interesting part of all of our conversations: the inner one. For there resides the entire committee: all the parts, bantering, running their commentary, taunting questioning, justifying. This is where the demons battle it out. This is also where God's spirit comforts, quickens, and admonishes with Truth. For the inner world is uncensored, but the outer world for most of us, is both monitored and censored.

Ruller's inner conversation reveals so much of his magical thinking about God: the punitive God ("God will probably make me chase that turkey all afternoon for nothing.", the benevolent God telling Ruller, "You were mighty generous", the God looking for the best performer (He knows for a fact God will send him a turkey. Because he is an unusual child, he interests God.").

Often these sound bites of magical thinking reflect our projections from experiences with authority figures. They reflect those who have had the power to give and the power to take away, based on our performance. But maybe, if we hold out our jujubeads and shake them just right, we can fend off the severe God a little longer. The problem is in our wiring. Two wires to be exact: a black one and a white one. I am good when I do X and bad when i do Y. I am loved and worth of approval when I am good and I am worth of nothing but punishment when I do Y

Breennan Manning says that "it takes a profound conversion to accept that God is relentlessly tender and compassionate toward us just as we are, not in spite of our sins and faults, but with them. Though God does not condone or sanction evil, He does not withhold His love because there is evil in us." Back to the wiring, my woundedness distorts my hearing. God says "I love you" and I evaluate the wrong thing. I evaluate me with my own punitive eye and come up short every time through the good/bad grid. Henri Nouwen in The Return of the Prodigal Son writes: "Often I am like a small boat on the ocean, completely at the mercy of its waves. All the time and energy I spend in keeping some kind of balance and preventing myself from being tipped over and drowning shows that my life is mostly a struggle for survival: not a holy struggle, but an anxious struggle resulting from the mistaken idea that it is the wold that defines me. As long as I keep running about asking: "Dod you love? do you really love me?", I give all the power to the voices of the world and put myself in bondage because the world is filled with ifs. The world says: "Yes, I love you if you are good-looking, intelligent, and wealthy. I love you if you have a good education, a good job, and good connections. I love you if you produce much, sell much, and buy much." There are endless ifs hidden in the world's love.

The discrepancy between the standard and our ability to it is an early revelation. We can't even sit still in church as children. We find over and over that putting the spontaneous "me" into the picture causes trouble. If tenderized, our hearts develop a penitent attitude. Hopefully and wistfully, just maybe our "I'm sorries" will bridge the gap of failure. The dilemma is formed: what to do to get rid of such pain. There are two basic avenues. There is the lookin' good mode clothed in overachievement and the hiding mode clothed in invisibility. Either one drives us out of the present moment and dispurses our lives into past and future. When we are busy with apologies and plagued with self-doubt, there is literally N0 One Home to experience the event. If no spontaneous responses are allowed, that leaves only the mechanical ones.

Who will save us from the dreaded plight? There is certainly a moment of surrender. Living this way is maddening. An initation of this house of distorted mirrors has been issued. We have been invited to and live in the king's palace. One there desires to adopt us and make us an heir, invites us to sit at the big banquet table, dressed as we are. You can spill your milk and still be loved. Is it too good to be true? No, it's true. "For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.' Rom 8: 38-39

Maturity, Seasoning, and Growth

I want to muse on maturity: its marks, its, fruit, and its desirability. I wish I were there....hmmm..but I could wish for a million dollars. However, there may only be one way to get there: exercise. Yes, not just joining the Y, but actually going there, picking up the weights and working out. A tree yields fruit "in its season." A tree planted by the rivers of water takes on distinctive marks over time. In later years, it is strong and tall, not easily uprooted. Here are my top 10 markers:

1. Maturity chooses a response, instead of reacting. It chooses according to a value system that is deeply entrenched.

2. Maturity has a balance between love of God, love of self, and love of others. It is not self-absorbed.

3. Maturity has the ability to see the big picture.

4. Maturity is secure enough to be wrong. Therefore it exhibits a lack of defensiveness.

5. Maturity has the capacity to truly celebrate other's victories.

6. Maturity can be passionate without being phrenetic. The mind governs emotions.

7. Maturity can make distinctions in situations. It contains one of those large boxes of 64 crayons, not just 2: a black and a white.

8. Maturity is grounded in reality. (See "Who Moved My Cheese?")

9. Maturity has God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit on the throne and not self. Wisdom begins with the fear of the Lord.

10. Maturity is able to deal with disappointments and delayed gratification.

Intentional Seed Sowing

I am a seed.

I look small and lifeless, but inside of me is a

Mysterious powerful indwelling LIFE.

When I meet soil, water, and light,

It's as though a resurrection happens.

For there, in the soil, as I lie still,

I am not dormant, but

Busy, incubating life within.

Add some water and some warmth and the

Miracle happens.

My favorite place to be be sown is in the human heart.

I can lie still literally for years but

When mixed with the water of tears and

The warmth of love,

I will provide a resurrection experience.

A sun rise experience.

A new birth experience.

So do not grow faint-hearted or weary.

Sow your seeds of kindness, compassion, faithfulness,

Love and mercy.

Sow abundantly, not sparingly,

For a packet of seeds costs so little.

But when you visit the heart-garden overunning,

You will be amazed.

Journey

Wish I knew who deserved credit for this: "If as Herod, we fill our lives with things, and again with things, if we consider ourselves so unimportant that we must fill every moment of our lives with action, when will we have time to make the long slow journey across the desert as did the magi, or sit and watch the stars as did the shepherds, or brood over the coming of the child as did Mary? For each one of us there is a desert to travel, a star to discover and a being within ourselves to bring to life."

Making Space in the HeartHouse

Spring seems to be the time to give the house a thorough cleaning. I am sure you have done it: "spring cleaning". But the truth is, our emotional house, the heart, could use a good cleaning out also. Nothing like a good trip to the garbage dump carrying away the junk that has been accumulated in our hearts. We could even have a "soulish garage sale". Actually, on second thought, we might want to ditch that idea because most of the hoarded things in the heart certainly should not be sold to anyone else, even for the cheapest of prices. No, we have to take a trip to the garbage dump.

We could go through the heart closets and rooms, and search for the rotten resentments, horrible hurts, grungy grudges, and crumpled up injustices. Hmmmm....the rooms to our hearts may be barricaded with all sorts of things for fear of feeling that hurt again. Work, work, work. Also need to check around for some loosened morals, twisted up values, and messed up priorities that sneaked in during the year and took up residence. We would do well to invite God on this search and find mission since the heart is deceitful. It takes a prayerful

attitude, one of humility, to embark on this kind of search.

The reason I thought a "fall cleaning" would be helpful is first of all to make room for the possibilities of bringing in newfound thanksgiving into our hearts. Not just the lip service kind but the heartfelt celebratory kind. So as Thanksgiving comes our way, we could have room in the heart closets for bringing in the many gifts that have come our way and truly truly be grateful.

Then just behind Thanksgiving, we have the whole season of Christmas absolutely running over with gifts for us to store somewhere in the hearthouse. All kinds of love, joy, peace, and good will toward men in beautiful packages, ours for the taking, if only we have room for it.

Also we have the possibilities of storing away some newfound hope as we sing the themes of new birth and anticipation. Anticipation of the new things that will fill our drawers and closets, accent our rooms, will make the work easy. So grab the brooms, the dustcloths, and maybe even the dreaded plastic gloves, and go after it!

Love As a Shock-Absorber

Here it is: confession time. I have found myself to be way too much a perfectionist to be a real blogger. I have to write, research, edit, etc which is quite time consuming so.....I am going to try something new....just the tidbits of my musings. So how about, I just try some ramblings. The idea I have been chewing on for 3 or 4 days is that love serves as a shock absorber in all relationships, but particularly I am thinking about marriage. When the fantasy wears off, there will absolutely be a period of disillusionment. I like to call this the "slippery slope" of disillusionment. Truth is, if you don't intercept it and begin to embrace reality, your relationship will end.

One day I was driving down the road recently, having a debate in my head about evolution. I had just had a session teaching a client about some of the intricacies of the brain. The brain always proves to me there was an intelligent designer. But on that day, I began thinking about man with emotions. A wide array of feelings I might add. I even saw a documentary on wolves where the alpha wolf came to a precipice every day for weeks howling after his "wife" had died.

Maybe a rock after millions of years could possibly turn into a toad (still impossible! how did the inanimate object start to breathe and have a beating heart? give me a break!). But if the rock that turned into the toad really happened, not only did it breathe and have a pulse, it also had feelings? It began to love and be disappointed, etc?

Okay, the emotion of love, which no scientists can seem to quantify in the lab, is an amazing phenomenon. The emotion of love is so strong that Jesus went to the cross because of it. For God so loved the world that He gave his only Son.

When love is present in a relationship, the basic irritations are just that: irritating, frustrating, but they are absorbed in the big picture of "BUT I love you/him/her." Love absorbs it. This is the 1st Corinthians passage. Love keeps no count of wrong.

There are some things that can stop love in it's tracks however. One is a critical judgmental

filter. That would be a negative filter to clarify. One that blames and finds fault. Another thing is an oversensitive spirit. This one is easily hurt, feels abandoned, rejected, overlooked, left out, etc. and I can guarantee this one is linked to the script of the past. Unforgiveness can be a block to love. It can harbor and harbor till the infection in the wound turns to gangrene. Nasty stuff.

If you need more love, go to the eternal well. God is love. A fruit of the spirit is love. Love is there for the asking if you need more. As long as you can pick fruit, it is on the tree. Why pick just a little? Get a whole basket full. If you are living with another human, you will need it. Love is a shock absorber! to be continued.....

What's it all about, Alfie?

Well it is quite early morning and life has been hectic upon returning from vacation. The vacation was one of those rare vacations where we actually vacated. So reentry is like going from 1st gear to 4th in one fell swoop for all those who learned to drive a stick shift. (I learned on a stick to drive my VW beetle at 16 and only tore out one set of gears in the process).

I had a lot of walking, thinking, meditating and praying time while I was gone. One of the things I sought was "What is the message I have for the world? What specifically drives my passion?"

I was taken back to a reality I discovered in my 30's. One day I was flipping through an old family album and came across a picture of myself at 12 years old. It was an out of body experience, observing myself from 3rd person stance, seeing this pathetic little girl. The thought instantly went through my head, "You look like an orphan". Upon further examination, I realized for the first time, I had been orphaned through the death of my mother at 10 years old. She was very very ill for a year before she died and I have realized lately I really lost her when she went to surgery the first time and received the diagnosis of melanoma. From that time, I began my adult life, cutting my own hair, giving my own perms, and by 15 began making my own clothes. I also began taking care of all, I mean all, of my own needs: physically, spiritually, and emotionally.

So all that to say, knowing what it is to lose a parent, I have had this unquenched desire to see families stay intact. I have had a driving passion for people to reconcile. I have had a drive to get people together, love each other, have fun. The "more the merrier" has truly been my theme. Another driver inside is to let people know how amazing, how loving, how intricately involved, is our God. This too is sourced in the time of agonizing over my mother's illness and finally her death.

A lot of you have heard me talk about our house in those days being filled with people: round the clock nurses, my mother's parents and siblings, women from the church. It was a SMALL little house. So the only place to be alone was the one tiny bathroom in the house.

Daily I tucked my little New Testament under my shirt and made a visit to God. I would get on my knees, place the Bible on the toilet seat....not an ornate throne room experience but it became holy ground to me. There I would read scriptures to God....I would read Him His promises to me. I would hold out my two small hands and say, "You promised if I asked for bread you would not give me a stone. Just in case You are confused, God, my mother living is

bread (hold out my left hand) , her dying is a stone (hold out my right hand)." We had constant conversations because no one in the house talked to me about the thing on my heart. They all tried to keep me distracted, keep me happy. I don't blame them. It was all they knew back in 1958 and 59.

The point is "Where else could I go, but to the Lord?" as the old song says. It was me and God in the foxhole and I was sparing nothing. Raw and real gut honest conversations. He entered my struggle. He was there every inch of the way and I know that He cried with me when she died. I want everybody to know God. I want everybody to wrestle with Him, to climb on His lap, to KNOW Him in the fullest most intimate way. He is the best friend in the world.

Did he save my mother from death? No. Was I angry and disappointed? Oh my goodness, you wouldn't want to hear those conversations. But He took it. And He didn't run from my hot anger. I know He wept and His heart was as wrenched as mine.

So I have my "drivers", my inner firehose, defined on at least 2 points. These 2 things have pretty much defined everything. I daydreamed of a large family, Walton style. I had a real relationship with God and wanted it for others. When we first moved to Freetown, Sierra Leone, we were in an upstairs apartment with a balcony. Masses of people passed below on the street. I would weep as they passed by because I wanted every one of them to know God and his Son Jesus. I wanted it so badly, I would literally cry.

I want you to love and be loved. I want you to know God and know Him intimately. I do believe He can tell all of us at any given moment how many hairs are on our sweet heads. Amen and Amen.