Tuesday, July 19, 2011

he loves me

This morning it was undeniable. It encouraged me. Gave me hope for today, a day when at 8:30am I was already feeling blah. I sat down and in the course of 10 minutes picked up 3 random daily devotional books and read todays selection. They all three spoke to my very emotional, critical, irritated and despairing heart. They all three connected ideas..one from another. God was seeking me, reaching out for me in my most half-hearted reach for him. I mean I was in the bathroom...with very little to occupy my mind. He loves me... even when I ignore him and seek out foolish idols that don't satisfy. He loves me...even when I act like he is not important to me. He loves me...when I'm avoiding him along with things in my life I don't want to face up to. He loves me...

He loves me. He loves me.
I can't imagine why.
Because many days I don't love me...
or even like me.

But today, he broke through to me and I know.
He loves me, misses me and is waiting for me to come back and sit with him and talk with him, pour out my ugly, selfish heart to him. He loves me.

And I love him, too.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Easter, the POW and the Korean War

Last week someone sent me a book online, which I devoured. I've been pondering it off and on all week. It is the story of a young Army officer, a West Point Grad, who became a POW during the first weeks of the Korean War (the last week of July 1950). He quickly realized that this would not be an internment like any he had heard of from the World Wars. This yound man, named Tom, was the ranking officer in this group of POWs, that later became a roving camp.

Tom quickly took leadership of the situation, organizing the other officers under him and getting the men to look out for one another. He constantly advocated for better treatment, more food and medical care for his men. Almost all were wounded. And soon they would all be fighting the affects of starvation and dysentary. The POWs were inhumanely treated, often beaten and even killed by their captors.

In September of 1950 the UN Forces turned the tide and the North Korean Army began its retreat. In an effort to stay in North Korean territory, the guards began to march these POWs from Seoul to Pyongyang over 30 days. It was a death march, as many died from their wounds, starvation and dehydration, or were shot by their captors when they fell behind. Tom made sure that his officers were always in the front, middle and back of the group of some 370 POWs. They encouraged the stragglers to keep on, often carrying the men and, when in front, they worked hard to slow the pace of the march.

I was so struck that in such an inhumane circumstance how caring this group of American soldiers was of one another. Whenever possible, the POWs would bury and say words over each man who died. They were careful to bury them with a record of their name, hometown, and date of death stuck in a bottle. And Tom kept a record of each man who passed. Under his leadership, these men resisted despair and banned together as brothers in the worst of circumstances. What made him feel such a sense of devotion to them?

Of the 370 some men, only 33 survived. Many escaped, but not Tom. Although he had opportunity to do so, he refused to leave "his men". This is their story of their beloved leader, who they called "the Major". Tom was massacred along with the majority of these POWs at the Sunchon Tunnel on October 20, 1950. All 33 claimed they would never have lived had it not been for the Major. The Major was in captivity for a mere 86 hellacious days, yet he changed these men's lives forever. One of his men, when he died at the age of 81, requested to be buried as close to the Major as possible at Arlington.

I also have pondered the loss of Tom to those who loved him. For although I never met Tom, I have "known" him since my childhood. He is my great uncle, the baby brother of my grandmother, Virginia. I have played with his grandchildren and grew up under the distant, but ever watchful and loving eye of his son, John. For his family, it has been a great loss, indeed.

And as I have pondered this story, the details fleshed out of my own familial oral history, I can't help but find my thoughts drifting to the cross. After all, it is Lent. Tom's story of love, sacrifice and death have fleshed out Jesus for me yet again. Sometimes between running kids all over the Lake and doing what must be done, the story of the resurrection seems faint, stale and devoid of emotion. But as I have felt my heart broken for Tom and his men, I have found my heart broken again for my God and his disciples.

He lived an unspeakable death for me. He chose it. He endured it. For me. I hope I never get over it. I hope there will always be things that bring me back to the truth when it begins to pale. There is no greater love story than the Cross of Christ.

Monday, December 13, 2010

3 browns

Picture Joy Christmas
Personalize the christmas season with Christmas photo cards.
View the entire collection of cards.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Christian crap about Depression

So this morning in the moments between preparing child #2 and child #3 to catch the bus, I picked up a book on the side table and read a chapter.  I’m not sure where this book came from.  We have had about a half dozen or less young women come trough our house over the summer months; someone must have left it behind.

About 6 or 7 pages in I wanted to throw the book in the trash.   That is what I thought of what this woman had to say….It’s trash…simplisitic Christian crap that the church has been throwing around and espousing for years.  The kind of crap that makes me want to take a machine gun to something.

I am SO  sick of Christian books and teachers that act like anti-depressant medication is concocted in a meth lab or is laced with cocaine….or that doctors are handing them out like candy on Halloween to any patient that is sad.  It is arrogant and makes a mockery of the medical profession and all those who truly have depression.

So hear is my view from the other side of the street.  God fearing Christians who love Jesus die every year at their own hand.  Yeah, you got it…they commit suicide while the church stands by and keeps shouting about the evils of prozac.

And an even larger number suffer in silence, either not going to church or not sharing their struggle with other believers because they have been told that they just need to repent or have more faith.  Shame on us.

It’s time for the church to stand up, confess how it has failed these Children of God and start advocating for them.  We need not just clergy who can offer them hope and a place to struggle well, but lay people as well.  “I’ll pray for you” just isn’t going to get it.

First, we need to acknowledge that depression and sadness or grief are not the same things.   For those suffering with true clinical depression, sadness may be a minor part of it.  Check out what are commonly accepted as symptoms of depression. 

Major depression is when a person has five or more symptoms of depression for at least 2 weeks. These symptoms include feeling sad, hopeless, worthless, or pessimistic. In addition, people with major depression often have behavior changes, such as new eating and sleeping patterns.

Symptoms

  • Agitation, restlessness, and irritability
  • Dramatic change in appetite, often with weight gain or loss
  • Extreme difficulty concentrating
  • Fatigue and lack of energy
  • Feelings of hopelessness and helplessness
  • Feelings of worthlessness, self-hate, and inappropriate guilt
  • Inactivity and withdrawal from usual activities, a loss of interest or pleasure  in activities that were once enjoyed (such as sex) 
  • Thoughts of death or suicide
  • Trouble sleeping or excessive sleeping

Second, we need to stop acting like we know what we don’t.  Many people who have depression need to be under the care of a doctor and/or counselor.  A good, loving, godly friend may mean well but they shouldn’t be a substitute for medical care. 

And let’s share  a little bit of information about anti-depressant/anti-anxiety meds.  Like all meds they come with side effects, and people tolerate and respond to each Most of these meds must be built up in your system before they work fully or properly.  That means 4-6 weeks.  During the build up time the drugs can have side effects that may subside once the build up period is over.  Or they may persist.  There is no way to tell except to take the medication for 6+ weeks.

The first drug the doc tries may not work for the patient;  but it will still take about a month or more to determine this.  If the drug does not work well for the patient, it must then be weaned out of their system over 4-6 weeks.  Although some drugs can be started before drug one is completely out of the system, some can not.  Some that are”kin” to each other allow you to jump from one to the other.

I say all this so you will know that, finding the right medication can and often is a lengthy process.  Once the right drug is found, it can be an immense help, but rarely would I consider medication the “quick-fix” that it is often taunted to be.

In fact, many people taking these type of meds live with side effects just in order to receive the benefit of the medication.  Added weight gain and loss of sex drive are just the two most talked about effects.  Many are not nearly so “pleasant” as a few extra pounds.

Third, the church needs to stop treating the depressed person as the problem.  We need to allow people to share their own stories of depression in order to encourage and educate others.  To that end, here is a little bit of why this issue is such a personal one to me.

My Story

In my early twenties, I spent a year in counseling (awesome Christian counselor) thanks to my boss ( who was not a believer, BTW) who knew I was depressed and insisted that I get help.  Counseling was immensely helpful.  I worked through many painful things from my pasts as well as destructive behaviors I had developed  (nothing salacious).  My depression lessened and became more episodic. I began to see depression as a result of how I dealt with experiences, and found as I took them fully to God the depression would lessen or go away.

That worked well for me until I started having babies.  My pregnancies were long and I was depressed throughout regardless of how I felt, how much time I spent with God, or  my circumstances.  With the help of my doctors (once I finally broke down and told them what was going on), I began to see that I was experiencing clinical depression, a depression that had more to do with what was going on physically in my body and not just emotionally and spiritually.  They determined that when pregnant, the hormonal changes I underwent caused me to chemically imbalance.  I needed anti-depressant medication during the pregnancy to rectify this.  Once I delivered and my hormones reverted to their previous state, the depression would subside. 

This was the first time I could see for myself that my depression wasn’t directly correlated to my own sin.  It was also my first experience taking anti-depressant medication.  I began to educate myself about  depression.  From counseling I had learned what some of my triggers were and how to spiritually and emotionally combat depression.  Now I learn more about what was and was not depression.  I began to be able to recognize depression as it began to grab a hold on my life, as opposed to being blind until the depression was in full swing.

During these years I began to experience an unusual seasonal depression.  I went through about 5-7 years  of this, starting each spring and lasting hrough most of the summer.  This was the most frightening depressive experience that I have been through.  I was a stay at home mom with two toddlers/baby/preschoolers.  There were many days that I awoke fearful that I couldn’t be a good Mom to them that day, but I knew there was no alternative.  It was not an unrealistic fear.

Thankfully, again my doctors helped me.  They began to see that I see-sawed way too much in and out of depression, and began to treat my depression as chronic, putting me on a daily dose of anti-depressant.  As they explained it to me, they felt between my family history and my experiences over the last 5 or so years, that it was likely that my body was always deplete of serotonin.  They recommended that I begin to see anti-depressant medication as something that I would take daily for the rest of my life, much like a diabetic takes insulin on a daily basis.

That was probably 10 years ago.  I take a daily dose of Effexor.  It makes me a “well” person.  No amount of prayer or faith can compensate for the lack of serotonin I have in my body.  It helps me to be able to be all that God intends for me to be….Mother…wife…friend..co-worker.  I still have bouts with depression, some small some larger and deeper.  In fact I went through one of those this spring.  My doctors changed my meds a little and that has help it not to be so severe. 

The medication doesn’t make me “happy”or “joyful”.  Only Jesus can do that.  It does help me not to struggle with deep rage over “nothing”, debilitating indecision, and crippling self-contempt.  I am thankful for depression and the way it has helped me to draw ever closer to God, but it still scares the hell out of me everytime I feel it coming.  I never know how long or how deep the bout will be.  But this I do know:  God will be with me everyday of it AND I am going to take that anti-depressant medication everyday of it too.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Who you calling a dog?

this entry was written July 27, 2010 but for some reason I didn't post it....

Well I started this blog months ago with a post about a passage of scripture I didn’t like, so to speak. Now this one is about a passage I don’t get, or maybe I don’t want to get it. Oddly enough, it is in the same book as the earlier passage..the book of Mark. (7:24-32?).

In Mark 7 a Greek woman comes to Jesus desperately seeking the healing of her daughter….sounds a lot like the first Mark passage, too, doesn’t it? (That one was about a father seeking healing for his son.) Now wouldn’t you expect Jesus to heal her daughter? Me too….and he does. But what gets me irritated is what he says before he heals her. He tells the woman that the children must eat before the dogs. Say what? Is Jesus really calling this distraught woman a dog to her face? Yeah….at least I think so.

Any way I look at this response by Jesus, it makes me uncomfortable. It doesn’t jive with my ideas of a compassionate and patient God. Now I probably do not understand all the cultural nuances here, but a dog is a dog. The Jews were God’s chosen people, but Jesus came to open up salvation to all. I mean this comment is something I would have expected from the Pharisees or stupid Christians today, but not the Almighty God.

I just find it so hard to believe he is putting her off because of her ethnicity. Before and after this passage, Mark records Jesus healing others who are Gentiles (non-Jews). Why would he single her out because of her race? Well,, I’m looking for answers here, so help me out and post your thoughts.

I do have an idea that I’m wondering about. Perhaps Jesus is healing both Mother and daughter…and both by his words. The daughter is healed as he says she is. But what about the mother? What is the ache of her soul? I wonder if she felt unworthy of God because she wasn’t a Jew? Perhaps Jesus spoke to her, her deepest fear and by doing so gets her to speak forth what she longs for…to be worthy of his love even though she is not part of the chosen tribe. Her response to Jesus is that even dogs eat the leftovers. Is that her plea to belong…to be worthy of his love, his attention, his healing touch? What do you think?

Sunday, August 8, 2010

I want a peaceful, easy feeling and I know you won’t let me down….

Today, I thought the sermon was just for me in an odd sort of way. You see, I had this startling experience yesterday while reading the book of Mark, and today Mike made me feel a little bit less odd about what I felt yesterday. After reading the story of the rich young ruler in Mark 10,l sat the Bible down and thought, “Jesus, I don’t like you very much.”

I have been reading through the book of Mark, wanting to see his deep love for me and not just when am good. It has not been going so well. What I have found is a Jesus who I don’t get and sometimes don’t like. Kinda scary to even say it out loud. I find myself irritated or offended by what he says…not his actions...I see love in them, but still….he gets under my skin with what he says.

When Mike said today that Jesus was unconventional, the light bulb went on. That is exactly what I am rubbing up against so hard. No one gets a free pass from Jesus in this book. Every time he speaks he is challenging someone, causing them to rethink what they believe. He makes the Gentile woman seeking healing for her daughter voice her fear that Jesus is only for the Jews. He picks grain on the Sabbath. He doesn’t even give the rich young ruler any kudos for what he has done to serve God. One challenge is met the next day with an additional one.

Jesus is turning Israel on its ear. Gigantic crowds are following him, constantly pressing in to be healed. He is teaching to thousands at a time. There is no escape. There is no privacy; finding some quiet in which to be alone with God or just to be alone with the disciples to teach them is becoming increasingly tricky. And everyday he does something new that is off the rocker unconventional.

After 10 chapters, yesterday I felt like giving up and walking away…it was just too much. I want a Jesus on a quiet mountainside to whisper sweet words of affirmation to me. What does that say about me? Do I just want Jesus to make me feel good about who I am? Do I follow him because he makes life easier? If I had been a contemporary of Mark, would I have given up, and walked away back to the synagogue whispering my criticisms of the Lord of my faith?

This time reading through the gospel of Mark what I see is a land and a people in conflict and turmoil. It is hard times. Things were not as they seemed in the Sunday School flannel board stories of my youth. Hanging with Jesus was hard and scary. It took a lot of courage and faith. If my faith is going to be authentic, I need to stop striving for the “peaceful, easy living” and man up and enter into the fray…that alone would be an unconventional step in this day and age. And that is where I need to start.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

ginny has a laptop!

This is my new lap top and I am learning how to use it!  YEAH!