11/01/11: Parents

As I told a friend (more on that later), my Facebook status has served as an outline for my blog.  I didn't intend for it to serve that purpose; I just came up with that excuse when said friend (more on that later) called me on needing to blog it and then called me on my crap excuse of using FB as an outline.  So, to keep my word, here it is...the blog posts I was reminded to write (more on that later).

"Nov. 1: Thankful for my parents and the start they gave me in life."  Facebook status and outline point #1.

I had fabulous parents.  I can never be the person who goes to therapy and tries to convince myself and my therapist that my current woes as an adult were because of my crappy childhood.  I tried that once.  It didn't work.  My parents truly were amazing.  Perfect?  Not at all, and they would be the first to admit it.  Did they make mistakes?  You bet, and they would be the first to admit it.  Was my childhood forever scarred by their mistakes, ruining every chance that I could be a responsible and successful adult?  Hello????  I am who I am and content with who I am largely because of my parents and what they did right and because of the mistakes they made.

My parents waited 10 years before I came along.  Believing she couldn't have children (because they had been trying without success to become pregnant for years), mom went to the doctor with what she thought was a virus she caught at work, only her coworkers had gotten well and she hadn't.  Yep, I was the virus.  I still think it hilarious that I was making her sick before she ever knew about me!  While my mom was in the office finding out that she would have this virus for years and years and that this virus was going to cost a lot of time and money, dad was in the cafeteria of the doctor's building getting a job transfer, promotion, and raise because they just happened to run into my mom's boss who had had the same virus everyone else had (not my mom's virus).  Yep, before they even knew I existed, I was making my mom sick and giving my dad a false sense of increased wealth.  SURPRISE!!!  Always the prankster...

As I mentioned, my parents had been married 10 years before I came along.  They both were in their 30s, and they knew they would not have any other children.  They had every reason to create an insufferable, entitled, selfish, spoiled brat.  Wait...they did (pregnant pause for contradiction...).  Seriously, they could have ruined me under the guise of loving me, but they used wisdom and discernment to guide their parenting, and they loved me enough but not "too much."  (Good parenting book by the way: "Parents Who Love Too Much.")  They both would have rescued me from difficulties in a proverbial heartbeat, but they allowed me to struggle and find my own way, to have my own successes and failures.  They could have babied me and kept me dependent on them, but they encouraged me to grow and be responsible and accountable.  Did they help me?  Of course they did!  I was their only child!  They provided for my every need and most of my wants.  They sacrificed for me.  They loved me with incomprehensible love.  

My parents taught me from an early age about freedom and responsibility.  I never had a curfew because they trusted me, and I didn't want to betray that trust because it was precious to me.  I never was grounded because mom said that would be punishing her more than me!  I was disciplined, sometimes by the switch from a peach tree that once grew in our yard but had to be cut down probably because it was nothing more than a trunk due to all the fruit-bearing branches being "pruned" so I could be pruned as well.  Sometimes that discipline was via lecture.  However, most of the time, that discipline was in allowing me to experience consequences, even ones they could foresee, so that I would learn the responsibility of decision and action.  My dad taught me how to think critically by asking me what options I had and what the possible pros and cons of each would be, then simply saying, "Choose."  My mom taught me how to love unconditionally.  Together, they were a great team, teaching me how to love with my whole being but to be smart about it.  

Sadly, my dad no longer is with me in body, but he definitely is with me in spirit.  I have great memories which become even sweeter when someone shares them with me.  He never met his grandson, which will always sadden me, but oh how proud he would have been!  

I am blessed to still have my mom.  She is relatively healthy and very sharp.  She loves me with a love I now can comprehend because I, too, am a mom.  I often say she has so much mothering in her that I gladly share her with others, and even though many view her as a mom, I am the only person on the planet fortunate enough to call her mom.  That is quite an honor for me.  I know that from a very young age I was not the daughter she had anticipated, but I know she believes I am the daughter she needed.  I have a magnet that reads, "I dress this way to mortify my mother" and even though it is unintentional, I know I do...mortify her, that is.  I loathe shopping.  I'm not big on jewelry.  We really are quite different types of women, but we are the same when it comes to loving our friends and family, especially each other.  And even though I try her patience and she tries mine, when all is said and done, never a single doubt remains about our relationship.  She is, after all, my mom.

If I can be the type of parent that my parents were, perhaps one day I will see my son being a wonderful dad to his children, knowing that the legacy that was passed was a wealthy one.  That will be the greatest honor of all, not just to me, but to my parents as well.

I'm Back...

Yes, I'm back, but not in an "Arnold Schwarzenegger Terminator I've come to destroy --no wait!--save the world" sort of way; rather in an "I know I could have done better and not put it off" kind of way.  Yes, that is my hat in my hand.  I'm not going to write any more about why I am back because that would be ruining one of my posts.  Suffice it to say, the month of November and the focusing of my mind on the blessings for which I truly am thankful brought my blog out of the dark corner in the back of my mind where it would peep out every now and then but could easily be overlooked or relegated to the vague time slot of "another time when I have more time" to the forefront of my mind where it was lit with a metaphorical neon "You have time NOW" sign.


So...ummm...yeah...

Sharp as a Knife's Edge

The Songahm Taekwondo World Championships were in Little Rock this past week.  We inaugurated a new Grand Master, GM In Ho Lee, and witnessed our former Grand Master become Grand Master Emeritus Soon Ho Lee.  What a show it was!  The pageantry and tradition was a site to behold.  Given that this was a momentous event, record numbers were in attendance.  In the Pro Shop, I saw the t-shirts from a school somewhere in the U.S.  It was black with neon green writing, and on the back was the scripture, "As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another" (Proverbs 27:17).  Just how does one person sharpen another?  This got me to thinking (a very dangerous past time, indeed).


My first thought was remembering watching my dad and, later, my husband sharpen a knife with a wet stone. I found a website on how to sharpen an iron chisel with a wet stone and was struck by the metaphor.  Basically, it takes five steps.  First, you must fix the stone securely so it won't slip while sharpening.  As you can imagine, bad things happen if your stone is not sure.  Second, the stone needs to be lubricated (hence the word "wet") with oil or water.  A wet stone is rather dry without water.  Third, place the chisel to be sharpened into the honing guide, tightened so it will stay but loose enough to be adjusted.  Fourth, slide the chisel back and forth over the stone, keeping the chisel in constant contact with the stone.  Fifth, clean off the burr by turning it over and starting again.  Repeat all five steps as necessary to achieve the desired edge.  


Basically, what sharpens iron is friction.  The stone is wet to keep it from over heating, but friction is what does the trick.  Oh how I've had people in my life who have sharpened me, and they can testify to the friction it takes, especially when this iron chisel is dull and stubborn!  I thought about those people who have sharpened me and the role they have played in the process.


I have solid friends, people whose character is steadfast, whose devotion is unwavering.  I also have come into contact with people who are "stone cold" and with whom I am not friends.  In both cases, in relating to another, our boundaries as individuals must make contact. When we are heading in the same direction, we glide like glass.  However, when our boundaries are not exactly parallel, we get an angel or an edge to them, and friction begins.  We can try and soothe things with understanding, encouragement, communication, empathy, and all that good stuff that a shrink like me is bound to say, but it doesn't matter how sweet the salve, friction remains. I have some friends who hold up to me a firm reality check, even if I do not agree with the reality they are presenting.  I have been chipped by some people, badly but never broken, and I have had others who come along and patiently begin to smooth away the chips and the burrs.  Slowly and painstakingly, they have remained by my side until my edge returns and I am useful once more.


These are the friends I cherish, the ones who disagree, sometimes vehemently, but they are steadfast.  Even when others have misused me and taken whacks that have left me in bad shape, these friends come along side, challenging and confronting me, making me take critical looks at myself to see the damage that has been done.  They hold me loosely, allowing me to adjust.  They guide me while I get a healthier perspective, a corrective angle.  Then they gently but firmly edify me, not with feel good strokes but with with words and actions that bring about real healing.  Some even bring about a real polish and shine, staying with me long enough for me to be better than I was before.

The Post With No Name

I had someone comment to me privately after one of my blog entries, "So when are you going to write about yourself instead of all this god talk?" My response was, "How are you so sure all of this God talk isn't me?" I write what's on my mind, and God is on my mind a lot and certainly not in a Sunday School teacher/Ladies Bible Study kind of way. I struggle with faith. I question God. I wait for answers. Sometimes I get them, sometimes I keep on waiting. I reject most "religious traditions" because I find them automatic rather than authentic. I grow weary of dogma presented as doctrine. I used to become angry with people who are at every church service, putting on piety with their Sunday dresses and suits, judging others who do not do the same. Now, I pity them. I yearn to interact with people who are genuinely and authentically pursuing a relationship with God, who are real with their flaws and imperfections and not merely confident in doing what they have been told to by others. I claw my way out of ruts of religious rules and seek alternate paths. I read. I think. I meditate. I whip out my Zen Christianity and risk being looked at like I just sprung a unicorn horn and wings at best.


Yet in the midst of my uncertainties, God makes His presence known to me in the way I can best understand and believe. I get asked, "Just who exactly is Jesus?" and I talk about the cross with a passion that defies my doubt, even when I'm in the midst of confessing it! I see people weep at the realization that Jesus IS God's love and embrace Him with a hunger and thirst for a relationship with a Savior whom they just met, and I see lives transformed because of that relationship. I marvel at how their faith seems so much stronger than my own, even while knowing that it's not their faith or my faith but God's faith imparted to us both. I realize I have become the very people with whom I once became angry, and I pity myself for taking for granted the most precious and life-changing gift I ever have been given. I walk around consumed with plans, contingencies, and ruminations, all the while knowing I could simply be still and know that He is God.


I realize just how happy I am that I am not the Holy Spirit, so I don't have to convict anyone. The Trinity has no vacancy that I need to fill! What freedom and empowerment! All I have to do is tell my story, not just the good parts but all of it (well, at least most of it), and trust that God will take it from there. I don't have to convince anyone; I simply have to admit that I struggle with being convinced, too. I don't have to hear anyone's decision; I simply have to acknowledge my own difficulty with making one daily. I don't have to point anyone anywhere; I just have to get out of the way. I don't have to defend God; I just have to love and be loved by Him...even when I wonder if He and His love are real. My questions do not change His love for me...they enhance it because I am being as genuine as I can be...for now...

History in the Making

Almost 10 years ago on September 11, 2001, we Americans and the much of the world watched in horror as two airplanes brought down the twin towers, one changed the shape of the Pentagon, and one went down in a field as free American civilians became the first soldiers to die in the war on terror.  President Bush demonstrated great restraint when he did not react.  While the world was urging us to turn the Middle East into a parking lot, Bush took care of home first, but the war on terror had begun.  In his wisdom, he did not kill millions of innocent people in an angry reaction yet miss the one who had orchestrated the attack.

Now, on May 1, 2011, President Obama demonstrated the same restraint when he said nothing when he signed the order to act, to send Navy Seals into a compound to eliminate Bin Laden mano a mano.  In his wisdom, he did not kill millions of innocent people.  He sent them to kill one man.  Three other people were killed, two men and a woman that one of the men used as a human shield.  No Americans were killed.  We won a war in approximately 40 minutes that began 10 years ago.

Our country has changed leaders during the past 10 years.  Two men.  Two philosophies.  Two different places in the war, one at the beginning and one at the end.  However, our country has had one constant...Jehovah God!  

"If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land" 2 Chronicles 7:14.  He has healed our land.  Have we called on His name? Have we prayed?  Have we sought His face?  Have we humbled ourselves?  Have we turned from our wicked ways?  I haven't.  We as individuals may not be deemed as having fulfilled our part of the condition, but Praise God, through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, we have been REdeemed, and God has healed our land and our collective experience of oppression through grief, hopelessness, and helplessness.  

"No longer will they teach their neighbor, 

   or say to one another, ‘Know the Lord,’
because they will all know me,
   from the least of them to the greatest.
 For I will forgive their wickedness
   and will remember their sins no more" (Hebrews 8:11-12)

I have NO DOUBT that Jehovah God has made Himself known to all, and I thank Him that He keeps His promises when I do not.  President Obama, his advisors, and the men who carried out the orders deserve so much credit, respect, and gratitude.  Let us not forget to thank our God who never was surprised, never was caught off guard, never was searching for Bin Laden.  My God knew.  My God acted.  Why now?  Why did so many have to die?  Why did it take 10 years?  I have no idea! I'm just grateful that He did.

The war was not with Islam; the war was and is with sin.  Jesus is the only One who ever won that war, and through Him, we can dance victoriously in the streets of our country tonight just as we will dance victoriously in the streets of gold.

Lessons from Rev. Tom Kurai

On Good Friday, I was fortunate to be introduced to Taiko by one of the masters, Rev. Tom Kurai.  Taiko is Japanese drumming.  Think "Beijing Olympics" and you get the picture.  He wrote soundtracks for movies such as "The Last Samurai" and "Memoirs of a Geisha" as well as music ranging from video games to parts of rock music.  Rev. Tom Kurai founded the Taiko Center in Las Angeles and is the head abbot of the Sozenji Buddhist Temple in Montebello, CA.  Taiko involves so much more than having rhythm.  From the way you stand to the way you hold the bachi (or "sticks" to us Americans), taiko involves the whole person--body, mind, and soul.  

As I listened to Rev. Tom play the taiko and then was able to play myself, I understood the physics principle that energy can neither be created nor destroyed.  As the energy flowed from deep within, through my arms, through the bachi, through the drum, returning to my body as vibrations of sound to my ears and movement to my hands, I got it.  I really got it.  If given the chance, I could have played those drums for hours.  I would have exhausted myself, but I would have played until I absolutely could not lift a finger.  It was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.

As I reflected on this experience throughout Easter weekend, I began to comprehend on an even deeper level what Jesus meant when asked what the greatest commandment was.   "Hearing that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, the Pharisees got together.  One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: 'Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?' Jesus replied: ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment'" (Matthew 22:34-38).  Loving God fully is a whole body experience, with ALL my heart, ALL my soul, ALL my mind.  

I can do the mind thing.  I think all the time.  You could call me a Zen Christian!  Sure I read the Bible and know scripture, but I always have been drawn to verses such as Psalm 49:3 "My mouth shall speak of wisdom; and the meditation of my heart shall be of understanding" and Proverbs 4:7 "Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore get wisdom; but with all thy getting, get understanding," and Psalm 19:14  "Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my Redeemer." I got it Friday.  I experienced it.  I meditated upon it.  I understood it.

Easter Sunday morning, as I worshiped as part of the Geyer Springs First Baptist Church Celebration Choir, I remembered my experience with Rev. Tom and taiko.  I felt the energy as it flowed from my soul, through my lungs into song. I envisioned it ascending to the throne of God, presented as a gift of gratitude to my Savior, Jesus Christ, and having it returned to me in the form of hope, love, mercy, and grace.  Talk about worship!

Rivers

I spent Monday evening by the river, Arkansas not Ouachita.  Even though I was in the middle of the city with traffic everywhere, I felt such peace.  I always feel peaceful at a river.  I realized I love rivers more than lakes or oceans.  Rivers are more contained than an ocean.  I can look from one bank to another.  I can see the boundaries of the river.  That is comforting to me.  However, rivers are not as confined as lakes.  Rivers flow, rather than being enclosed by dams or mountains.  Whether in a canoe or on a yacht, travel is possible on a river.  I feel neither stuck nor overwhelmed.  I have a choice to sit and watch it flow by or use it as a means of adventure. 

However, I realized last night that rivers touch me in a deeper, more spiritual way.  One of my favorite passages in Joshua 3:1-4: 
¹ Then Joshua rose early in the morning; and they set out from Acacia Grove and came to the Jordan, he and all the children of Israel, and lodged there before they crossed over. ² So it was, after three days, that the officers went through the camp; ³ and they commanded the people, saying, “When you see the ark of the covenant of the LORD your God, and the priests, the Levites, bearing it, then you shall set out from your place and go after it. ⁴ Yet there shall be a space between you and it, about two thousand cubits by measure. Do not come near it, that you may know the way by which you must go, for you have not passed this way before.” (KJV) 

This passage has been such a comfort to me at different times in my life.  When I felt God moving in my life, all I had to do was keep a reverential distance but stay close enough to see His leading because I may not have traveled this way before, but He has.  He knows what I have been through, and He knows what lies ahead. 

And where exactly were the children of Israel in that passage in Joshua?  They were about to cross the Jordan River into the land God had promised them.  They literally were at the point of claiming God's promise; all they had to do was follow. That is easier said than done.  Even with God's promise within reach, acting can be quite anxiety provoking.  After all, it's change, and change is stressful.  They were about to cross the Jordan River and enter the promised land and  God was leading the way not just as a guide but as an advanced guard.  Joshua 3: 7-13:
⁷ And the LORD said to Joshua, “Today I will begin to exalt you in the eyes of all Israel, so they may know that I am with you as I was with Moses. ⁸ Tell the priests who carry the ark of the covenant: ‘When you reach the edge of the Jordan’s waters, go and stand in the river.’”
 ⁹ Joshua said to the Israelites, “Come here and listen to the words of the LORD your God. ¹⁰ This is how you will know that the living God is among you and that he will certainly drive out before you the Canaanites, Hittites, Hivites, Perizzites, Girgashites, Amorites and Jebusites. ¹¹ See, the ark of the covenant of the Lord of all the earth will go into the Jordan ahead of you. ¹² Now then, choose twelve men from the tribes of Israel, one from each tribe. ¹³ And as soon as the priests who carry the ark of the LORD—the Lord of all the earth—set foot in the Jordan, its waters flowing downstream will be cut off and stand up in a heap.”

As with the Israelites, God knows what is awaiting me.  And, just as the Israelites, I have my battles to fight, some within myself, some with others, but God leads the way.  God knows the battlefield and enemy better than I, even when that enemy is myself.  When He leads the way, I can choose to pass through the river, or I can choose to stay behind in my old way and not claim tha promise He has waiting for me.  When I choose to pass through the river, sometimes I pass through on dry land, with no problems, because God is standing in the way, holding back all that will flood me, just as He did for the Israelites.  During those times, I may never know from what all I am being protected because He is shielding me.  "And as soon as the priests who carry the ark of the LORD—the Lord of all the earth—set foot in the Jordan, its waters flowing downstream will be cut off and stand up in a heap" (Joshua 3:15).  I have no idea what all troubles stand in a heap because He stood in the way. 

However, sometimes I pass through the river and get wet, all wet, the head to toe soaked to the bone kind of wet that leaves no doubt to myself or anyone who sees me that I'm  completely saturated.  Sometimes, this passing through the river is voluntary; sometimes it is not.  Voluntary or not, it is necessary.

Naaman was a powerful leader of the powerful army of Aram.  He was well respected by his leaders and by the people whom he led.  But no matter how powerful and respected he was, he had leprosy (2 Kings 5: 1).  A young girl from Israel had been taken captive and served Naaman's wife.  She said she wished her master could go see the prophet in Israel because she knew he could cure Naaman of his leprosy.  The king of Aram sent word to the king of Israel that Naaman would be arriving.  The king of Israel was very upset, thinking that he was being set up because he knew he could not cure leprosy.  Elisha, however, instructed the king to send Naaman to him.

When Naaman arrived, Elisah sent word via a messenger to “Go, wash yourself seven times in the Jordan, and your flesh will be restored and you will be cleansed" (2 Kings 5: 10).  This did not set too well with Naaman.  First, Naaman was a bit put out that Elisha did not speak with him directly.  After all, he was an important man.  How dare Elisha simply send a messenger!  Second, Naaman was looking for something a bit more flashy.  "But Naaman went away angry and said, “I thought that he would surely come out to me and stand and call on the name of the LORD his God, wave his hand over the spot and cure me of my leprosy" (2 Kings 5: 11).  He was expecting God to work in an obviously spectacular way.  Third, the Jordan isn't exactly the cleanest of rivers.  Naaman said, " 'Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Couldn’t I wash in them and be cleansed?' So he turned and went off in a rage" (2 Kings 5: 12).   

For Naaman, his pride almost cost him his healing from leprosy.  "Naaman’s servants went to him and said, 'My father, if the prophet had told you to do some great thing, would you not have done it? How much more, then, when he tells you, ‘Wash and be cleansed!'  So he went down and dipped himself in the Jordan seven times, as the man of God had told him, and his flesh was restored and became clean like that of a young boy" (2 Kings 5: 13-14).  However, Naaman not only received healing from his leprosy, he received faith in Jehova God.  ^"Then Naaman and all his attendants went back to the man of God. He stood before him and said, 'Now I know that there is no God in all the world except in Israel'" (2 Kings 5:15).

How many times have I been like Naaman!  I come to God with a dire need and I expect God to work or lead in a certain way, and when He doesn't, I doubt and get angry.  I don't like what may be required of me for my need to be met.  I want it done the way I want it and when I want it.  Basically, pride gets in my way and I risk missing the amazing blessing God has in store for me, and I risk missing the affirmation that God is God, the great "I AM," and the relief of knowing that "I am NOT."  My pride and stubborness keeps me from seeing the awesomeness of God.  However, when I yield to what I did not want or expect, sometimes after gentle edification from friends, I am at peace.  It may take a while, but I eventually get there.

Then there are times in my life when I voluntarily enter the river as a testimony to Whose I am.  My first entry into the river was baptism, my first public act of service and declaration of my faith in Christ.  Since then, other times I've voluntarily stepped into the river have been leaps of faith, even when that leap was to be still and know that He is God. 

Finally, I think it is beyond coincidence that the Jordan River plays such a significant role.  Ragardless of whether it was the place of healing as with Naaman or the place of promise as with the Israelites, the Jordan is important.  It's not just any old river; it is the river in which Christ was baptized.  Both healing and promise were found in the river because it is a symbol of the source of true healing and promise, Christ.

From now on, my river experiences never will be the same.  Whether watching peacfully from the bank, taking a refreshing swim, floating lazily in a canoe, or turning over in a canoe (which does happen with regularity), this metaphor will be with me as a reminder that this life is but a mere reflection of the deeper, more meaningful spiritual life.  After an encounter with Christ, I am never the same...