One of my children is grounded.

A little bit ago, I had to remind my child that the plans being made did not take into consideration that grounding.  My child began talking to me like I was an enemy. So, I said, “You are talking to me like I am your enemy.” (I thought it was a profound statement that would change the course of our conversation.)

My child said, “I feel like you are my enemy.”

I wisely responded, “You should challenge those feelings.”

My child replied, “I think my feelings are right.”

There was nothing left to do (nothing I was smart enough to figure out) but to walk out of the conversation as my child tried to justify the accusation against me.

In so many other circumstances I have been able to help my child work through feelings and embrace each other in love.

Now, we are ignoring each other.  I don’t think I could continue the conversation in any productive way.  At least not right now.  I still don’t know what I would say even if I weren’t feeling so terribly hurt.
I know what I want God to do.  I want Him to convict my child; to bring the injustice of the accusation to light; to break my child’s heart and lead my child to a humble contrite apology.

This is not a made up experience being used to illustrate how we sometimes think of God as our enemy.  I wish it were.  Instead, I am a professional counselor who (at this moment) has no idea how to respond to this emotional, relational, and spiritual situation.

My one comforting thought is that this is not the first time I’ve been in this type of situation; Hurt, not knowing how to respond.  The other times?  Some ended well.  Others – not.  Yet, God remains with me.

Last week I was in a terrible car accident.  I hit black ice and spun my way down the highway for an incredibly long time.  Once I regained control of the car and was coming to a stop, I was rear-ended by another car that had lost traction also.  I did another complete circle before hitting the divider wall.  Another “forever” being out of control.  When I thought it was finally over a police car, coming to help, hit the same ice and spun out of control.  It stopped just feet short of hitting us again.  Still huge trucks and other cars were racing past us.  Each a projectile that could lose control and kill us all.

So, my question is, “If God could save us from death and injury, why didn’t He go ahead and keep our car from damage all together?”

I can’t believe that God was not involved in saving our lives.  There were a two dozen different ways we could have been killed.  So, … yes, I’m grateful.  BUT, it seems to me that after all the hard work of keeping us alive, it wouldn’t have taken much effort at all to protect us all together.  After all, the vast majority of cars traveling that section of highway did not lose control at all.

I have this same question about my sanctification.  After having sanctified and set me free from some besetting sins, why doesn’t He sanctify me entirely?  Why not completely save?

My conclusion: I will trust Him.  I will hold on to the questions loosely; knowing my brain is too small to embrace the answers even if He were to sit down face-to-face and explain them to me.  And, that’s a good answer for me.  It lets me leave the heavy burdens at His feet and move on to embracing whatever comes next.

I witnessed such an amazing event that I have to share it with you.  Two sisters (one and a half and two and a half years old) were recently adopted by my friends.  To celebrate the occasion a “shower” was held.  When I arrived the adults were stocking the cookie and drinks, organizing the gift table, and greeting each other.  My daughter and I filtered back to a game room where the two teenage sons were watching over their new sisters.  Each of the sisters had a helium balloon that they repeatedly released.  The girls would say “Uh-oh” and one of the boys would reach the string and return the balloon.  My daughter got in on the game by lifting first one girl then the other so they could grasp their balloon’s string.  The game went on for what I thought was an impossibly long ten minutes or so.  None of the youth seemed too eager or at all resentful of the constant dance.

As the little girls gained confidence they took the game to a new level.  First the older, then the younger little girl ventured into the big room.  Each would seem to indiscrimently choose an adult, walk up to them, release their balloon, and say “Uh-oh”.

I watched in fascination as one adult after another took turns retrieving the balloons.  This dance continued, with short interruptions, for at least another forty minutes before until the shower came to a close.

I remembered the dynamic experienced so often by those who foster or adopt children a little older than these little sisters.  Without conscious intent, a newly fostered or adopted youngster will almost always test their new invironment to see how they will be accepted and/or cared for.  The older (extroverted) children will either act out in some very dramatic fashion ,whereas the older (introverted) children will become seriously ill.  In this manner they will quickly discover how accepted and/or cared for they will be.

As these two little sisters released their balloons again, and again, and again, and again, I realized that very unintentionally they were testing their new environment.  What a wonderful and amazing event to witness as again, and again, and again the little sisters were given calm reassurances that they were safe and cared for by this community.  It was as if the brothers had set an example that the whole community followed.  We became a “counseling community”; providing a context for healing and growth in two brave little girls.  What a beautiful moment!

My wife and I went to the RAIN (Beatles tribute band) concert.

I believe I now have a sense of what is like to be on an LSD trip.  The band sang “Strawberry fields forever”, with lava-flow lighting and smoke.  Their words and instruments communicated to me a profound sense of relieve (like some stress had been lifted off my shoulders), and then to a disoriented semi-gloom (a light depression), followed by a nostalgic wish to return to the original sense of relieve.  I guessed that maybe that was the kind of LSD trip the author had experienced.  I felt I shared in the experience through their music.  Which kind-of prepared me for my next new experience.

When the band sang John Lennon’s  “Imagine” I had a freedom to join in the imagining.  Always before for me the song had been a guilty pleasure; intriguing words and melody that flew in the face of my faith.  “Imagine there is no heaven …” – heresy, right?  Yet, in these moments of existential freedom, I liked what I heard.  I saw the words in a new light.  Like, “what if we weren’t all sinners and bound to betray our own highest values?”  I pictured the John Lennon who wrote “Imagine no possessions, I wonder if you can” sending millions of dollars on his own comforts.  And, I hurt for him.

I realized that John could only imagine.  He was a dreamer dreaming a dream he must have known he could never even do his part to bring about.  But, OH what a wonderful dream!!!  A world with no war, no greed, no lies, manipulation, or dominating each other.

I felt glad that John was a dreamer; glad that he imagined a better world.  I want that same world, and am free to pursue it through the healing God is working in my soul.  Through Christ Jesus I am offered the joy of heaven promised and the kingdom of heaven breaking into my life.  I get to dream with hope.  I get to imagine with confidence.

Larry met his wife at the door when she returned from her time volunteering at the church.  He knew that she would have some emotions saved up from the event to “process with him”.  Often she would be angry at someone who did/didn’t do/said/didn’t say something right.  Larry had learned not to try to calm his wife or redirect her feelings.  Nothing would help her except for her to see him take on her feelings.  She needed him to feel what she felt in order to fell validated in her own feelings or to feel cared for by Larry.

Larry’s wife is a Type A codependent, and Larry had become a safe harbor for her by developing his own codependency; Type B – “It is my job to care for you.”

In counseling with Larry’s wife I have to walk a delicate line.  I provoke her anxiety by at times disagreeing with her perspectives and challenging her emotional responses.  At other times I comfort her by assuring her of the value of her thinking and feeling.  Back and forth goes our dance; Comforting and provoking, provoking and comforting.   She is never sure which she will receive from me.  When she gets frustrated with this process she will sometimes threaten to quit counseling.  I comfort her by assuring her that I would miss her and I wish she would continue.  At other times, she may say that she is ready to leave counseling due to the growth and healing she has experienced.  Then I will provoke her by stating goals I think she has yet to achieve.

In other words, I will honor any decision she makes but I will not validate her thinking and feelings when I believe they are unhealthy.  I will not play the codependent game.  Still, I will enjoy and love Larry’s wife.

One of our next goals together is for Larry’s wife to express the frustrations she has about me to me; not to Larry.  This is a scary process for Larry’s wife.   I’ve told her that I won’t talk with Larry about her frustrations with me.  Thus, frustrating both Larry and his wife and throwing a kink in their mutual codependency.

If Larry and his wife continue in counseling it will be because they see value in how I relate to them.  THEN, I can coach them further on how to change their relationship with each other.  Pray for us!

It took five hours to make the trip from Tulsa, OK to Glen Rose, TX.  The museum is an under-funded converted barn, with only one exhibit that seemed unique or treasured.  The museum was established on the site of the discovery of a fossilized human foot-print that had been slightly blemished by the print of a dinosaur’s paw.  This exhibit is presented as a proof that man and dinosaurs coexisted in the same time in human history instead of being separated by at least 500 million years as the natural evolutionist claim.

Personally, I have long believed that the earth is only thousands of years old.  I have held this believe as a non-essential of my faith.  I have enjoyed learning scientific research that confirms what I believe to be the “Biblical record of creation.”  On the other-hand, I have never felt defensive of this believe.  I’ve heard others express disdain for my belief (not knowing I held it).  And, I’ve heard some express disdain for those who oppose this belief.  I imagine you have too.

Now, I have this opportunity to tell you what hearing my belief extolled, explained, and celebrated means to me.  As the founder of the museum lectured on “the crystalline canopy that was part of the atmosphere of the earth prior to the world-wide flood” I experienced several strong feelings: 1) I felt so loved.  For instance, one of the theories that Dr. Carl Baugh elaborated on was “the song of the morning star” spoken of in Psalms.  Dr. Baugh drew on reports from NASA that detail the different natural radio signals emitted by different planets.  One is described as a series of whistles, another as a deep-throated hum, and another as various sequences of percussions.  Together, the planets create a symphony.  Dr. Baugh claims that the atmosphere of the earth prior to the flood included an electromagnetic field that actually attracted and amplified this symphony and broadcast it to the earth from the sky for an hour or so each day.  2) I felt like my life really matters.  I am not one of thousands or millions of generations upon this earth. I am part of a generation that participates in profound changes such as each generation of the people of God have during this short history of the people of God.  And, 3) I felt excited for the possibility of Jesus’ impending return.  Anticipating a short history of the world creates a profound anticipation that excites and delights me.

I’m not sharing any of this to prove or convince anyone of my belief.  I still do not think it is essential to a faith in Jesus.  I do, however, want to share the feelings such a belief inspires in me.

I used to practice spiritual disciplines.  Now, I just allow myself to indulge in the means of grace.  When I need encouragement that God’s plan for me is wise and loving even when I don’t like my circumstances I read the Bible.  If I’m really struggling I may meditate on select verses or even memorize a pertinent chapter.  I know God will comfort my anxious thoughts and calm my racing thoughts.  So, when I need to, I indulge myself.

When I feel certain compulsions to self-destructive and/or demeaning behaviors, I may treat myself to a day of fasting or some intense physical exercise.  Once again, God accepts my invitation to minister to me by calming my body.  Or, when I feel tired or alone, I go to church and let my pastor spoon feed me some life-nourishing truth and let the worship team draw me into their fellowship of praise.  I may even be treated to an invitation to celebrate communion with God and saints throughout history through receiving the Eucharist.  I feel the passions to love and care for others poured into me through these means of grace.  I unapologetically indulge myself.

Back when I used to think of myself primarily as “a Believer” I practiced spiritual disciplines in hopes of discovering the right things to believe.  When I thought of myself primarily as “a Disciple” I practiced spiritual disciplines in order to be obedient to the principles of God.  But, now-a-days, I think of myself as first and foremost as a child of God, adopted into the family of God.  I rejoice in my forgiveness through Jesus’ sacrifice on my behalf.  I depend upon the Holy Spirit to continue the works of sanctification that has been begun within me.  I cast all my cares on Him, and put away those “spiritual disciplines”.  I’m just a child.  I can’t be expected to be smart enough, strong enough, caring enough, and stable enough to accomplish those disciplines.  Instead, I will indulge myself in the means of grace.