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Tag: #healing

But, What If?

Folks who know me understand that I have no qualms about asking questions.
Tough questions.
Of anyone.
For any reason.

Most of the time I ask questions in order to evoke reflection.
I’m not really challenging anyone.
I want them to think deeply about what they are saying or doing.
And, questions open up the possibility of discussions.
Discussion is always good.

Especially, for someone like me.

You see, many times I have no idea what I think about something until I actually say it out loud. (Or, write about it. Like now.)
So, in forming and stating questions I am more able to process the internal thoughts that roam free upon the ranges of my mind.

I take this same approach when I speak to, and about, God.
Hey! I heard that collective gasp out there!
“What?!? You question God?”

Sure. Why not?
Do you really think that God is afraid of my questions?
Perhaps I might catch God off guard with something?
One time I said to a pastor of the church I was attending that God is OK with our questions.
His response?
“Well, maybe. But, I wouldn’t push it.”

Push God?

How exactly does a person “Push God”?

Anyway, that said, I want to get to the real reason for this post.
(The mark of a true writer is to be able to write a whole bunch of words before making a point. It boosts word count.)

Most of you know that I’m currently dealing with colon cancer.
It’s like going to a party and receiving a White Elephant gift.
“Ok, now what am I supposed to do with this purple Bobbing Bird?”
Many people have expressed their concern and have said that they will keep me in their thoughts and prayers.
I appreciate this sentiment. It reveals our common concern for others. We’ve all suffered through one thing or another. So, we try to empathize with those who are currently suffering.
So, to all of you, a heartfelt, “Thank You”!

But, what if……

There are a lot of people out there who think that all they need to do is garner enough faith and pray. They think that God will then miraculously heal them.
If they follow the correct procedure, according to their unique reading of Holy Scripture, God is almost obligated to heal them.
“But, God said if I have faith like a mustard seed I can tell this mountain to throw itself into the sea! And, it will! Hallelujah!”
I don’t know about you, but I haven’t seen a lot of heavenly landscaping recently.
These same people have built million dollar industries on the fear of people.
Folks get sick. The diagnosis is dire.
Benny Hinn says, “God will heal you!” as he puts his hands on your head.
The emotions of the moment are overwhelming.
You find yourself being helped to the floor by attendants who work for the scamvangelist.
People in the room and around the world see this and happily reach into their undernourished bank accounts to send money so that “God’s work can continue.”

But, what if……

God doesn’t work that way?

But, what if……

God’s only real promise to us is that,
“I will never leave you nor forsake you”?

But, what if……

God never intended for us to avoid all of the stuff, good and bad, that makes us human?

But, what if……

God understands our suffering and sorrows and will walk with us as we move forward?

I know that some folks will take issue with these thoughts.
Some may even question my faith.

But, what if……

God is not afraid of the questions?

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From Generation to Generation

It’s odd how certain thoughts and ideas pop into your head.
Churning and turning over and over and over….
See how the myriad facets of that thought present their varying colors and perspectives. Sewing themselves into the fabric of your mind.
Amazing!

What does that have to do with anything?
Well, this morning my mind wandered to how one generation’s life and experience influence those that follow.
I know that this is something that we in the West don’t often consider.
We think that each person is an individual who is capable of building her life on her own. Through hard work and grit people can slough off any and all encumbrances and create a successful life…for themselves.

But, is that an entirely accurate idea?

I’m not so sure.

My Dad’s mother died when he was very young. His father remarried.
Eventually, his father, an alcoholic, left them and moved away. So, he was raised by his step-mother.
It was late in his life when he told me anything about that time in his life.
His step-mother was truly a bitch. She abused him in passive-aggressive ways that left lasting scars.
As a result, he withdrew into himself.
He became known to others by his quietness. His high school yearbook noted that he didn’t say much, but what he said was profound.
He never experienced true intimacy with anyone.
Yeah, he had a special relationship with my mom. His love was as deep as the ocean. His devotion to her unwavering. But, even with her, he held his feelings close to himself. It seemed that only after his mind began to fail him toward the end of his life that he began to open that long-closed box that contained his heart.
Nature and Nurture.
Joined to create a New Thing.
Dysfunction.

As I wrote before, I was adopted.
I was torn from my mother and placed in an institution.
I was given to my adoptive parents while still and infant.
But, damage was done.
All of the experts agree that attachments are necessarily created, bonds of love and trust, at this early age.
Although my adoptive parents cared for me, gave me their name, and provided stability and security for me, they will always be at best High Level Foster Parents.
It seems that only those who do the adopting consider that their new child is truly theirs. No one who keeps these stats and stories ever really asks those who were adopted. No one seems to really consider our insight into our own lives.
I don’t want to take anything away from my mom and dad. They loved me and supported me in their way. I will always have deep gratitude for the life they provided and the sacrifices that they made.
But, the ability for me to make intimate links with anyone was diminished. If not totally destroyed.
I withdrew into myself.
I tried to emulate Mr. Spock. Suppressing my emotions, stuffing my feelings, became my ultimate goal.
We all know that’s an impossible task.
Rather, my emotions raged like a class 5 hurricane. They found no true or constructive outlet. So, as I worked to contain the storm within, damage was done.
Nature and Nurture.
Joined to create a new thing.
Dysfunction.

Those are two generations in which similar circumstances created similar narratives.

My brain goes to these places as I try to come to grips with dysfunction, not only in my own life, but in my family and among my friends.
There is something to the idea of generational influence. For good or ill; better or worse.
These are things that we have absolutely no control over. They have been handed to us by those who came first.

We can, however, make choices on how to engage these things.
I know that I will never be able to experience a truly intimate relationship with anyone. There are too many issues deeply embedded in my soul to allow that.
But, I can push myself to learn new ways to deal with that.
The first and perhaps most important way is to be honest with myself about these things.
Second, I can learn to forgive those who preceded me. Both the one who gave me away and the ones who took me in.
They are no more perfect than I am. I have to be able to extend them the grace to be human.
Third, and perhaps most important, I must learn to forgive myself.
Because I am acutely aware of my own shortcomings, my own “sin,” it’s easy to find myself swimming in an ocean of guilt and shame.
That’s hard.
The guilt and shame were truly earned.
But, I can’t…I mustn’t…live there.
That compounds hurt upon hurt.
That leads to death.
Spiritual; emotional; physical.

We give too little consideration for anything beyond the tiny sphere in which we live.
We think, mistakenly, that we are an individual who is a self-contained entity with no ties to anything outside of ourselves.

That’s a lie.

Don’t believe that for an instant.

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