Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Christmas quandry

The following is a quote from Robert MacColl Adams (1913-1985) from a letter he wrote in 1982. I thought it was worth some reflection this week.

I have this running quandary about Christmas. I get upset about it, because I feel that we American Christians make too much of it, and too little. Too little of it, because we pile all sorts of other things onto it, including some that have only the feeblest connection with the Event it is supposed to commemorate. If God did become a man, in any real sense, it is the most important thing that ever happened. Surely we, who believe it, could well devote one day a year to uninterrupted
contemplation of the fact, and let Saturnalia fall on the winter solstice, where it belongs.

On the other hand, we make so much of the actual birth, and forget the things that make it more than just the birth of a baby (though even that is, in Walt Whitman's phrase, "miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels"*)--more, even, than the birth of the greatest man who ever lived. We forget the promise to Eve of a descendant who will solve the problem of Evil; the promise to Abraham of one by whom all mankind will be blessed; the promise to Moses of a greater prophet than he, to arise from his people; and the promise to David of a Son who would be his Master. We forget about the eternal Purpose behind it all: it's like telling a story and leaving out the point. Yes, it is true that God gave us His Son, and so maybe we ought also to give gifts--but what, and to whom? It is also true that God gave us Himself, and the only sensible response to that is to give ourselves to Him. There is nothing else that He wants from us, or, if there is something, He can take it. Only I, my ego, my heart, is truly mine to give or to withhold--and is therefore the appropriate gift to Him.
* Walt Whitman (1819-1892), Song of Myself, in Leaves of Grass

Monday, December 21, 2009

competitors...or brothers?

"When we confess our virtues, we are competitors; when we confess our sins, we are brothers." --Karl Barth

A radio caller the other day had struggled to find acceptance in his own community of orthodox Jews and raised this question: "Are people harder on those in their own group than they are on outsiders?"


It's not a bad question. It seems to be a problem in religious communities everywhere: Jewish, Mormon, Muslim, Baha'i, Christian, and more. I've experienced it myself, seen it in the news, and listened to the experiences of friends from other faiths. As I mulled it over, however, I began to wonder if the issue wasn't less about faith communities and more about grace vs. works.


Ironically, living under a system where you try to earn salvation or God's favor by keeping the law, doing good, or being morally upright cultivates a judgmental heart. You live through the strain of fighting your nature to resist doing the things you shouldn't and actively do the good things you don't really want to do, and in the end if you're "successful," you become a morally upright person who expects the same from the others in your group. After all, "I was able to do it; you should be, too." Those who fail are seen as spiritually lesser people who just haven't tried hard enough. It may not be overtly stated that way, but within the hearts of the successful do-gooders, the judgment is there, looking down on others in the group with disappointment (at the very least) and self-righteous pride in their own ability to make the cut.


Contrast that with life under a system of grace in which I see myself as I really am--no hiding or sugar-coating to impress the other religious people in my circle--just a person whose nature is to run my life on my own apart from God. I replace Him with a myriad other things I love more and set myself up as the ultimate master of my fate, the decision-maker, the authority over myself--my substitute god. Before the creation of the world, God knew I would exist and choose myself as ultimate, living as if He didn't exist or have any right to my life...and before setting all of it in motion He provided my only way of escape from the damning treadmill of self-effort and self-righteousness: the perfect God-man, Jesus, who laid His life down in my place and bought me at great cost to Himself. When I trust that what He did for me was enough to save me, and that His sacrifice applied to my life changes my standing before God, I am overwhelmed by His grace.


That grace overflows onto the lives of those around me. I'm no longer critical, inwardly judgmental, self-righteous, and expecting others to meet a standard. I am overwhelmed, aware of my unworthiness of such a gift, amazed that He would set His love on me, and overflowing with love for people still on the treadmill.


It is the system of works and self-effort that creates judgment for others in our own group. I have experienced it firsthand with people who say they're trusting God but live in their own strength without any experience of intimate community or the strong freedom that comes from God's grace. This kind of grace from God creates groups of people who love each other deeply, supernaturally, intimately, with no strings attached and no judgment rendered. This is not theory; I have experienced it firsthand, and there is nothing like it. God's gift of grace evaporates self-righteousness and replaces it with love for those struggling with sin...because I see myself as a co-struggler and recipient of undeserved favor. I see others differently and am free to pour love into the lives of those who struggle with me.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

God's furniture in the dark

I just finished reading about the life of Helen Keller. The dark silence was her suffocating enemy, and yet at the same time, her great clarifier. She had no distractions--only darkness blocking out any context. Fear, anger, craving, passion all swirled within her, but the darkness gave her focus.

There is an element of freedom in being blind to what lies ahead. We are ALL blind to what lies ahead; we just don't realize it until something unexpected happens, leaving us aware of our fragility. The vulnerability we feel in dark silence rouses our courage to move forward even when we can’t see what’s in front of us.

It reminds me of God’s call to Abram to leave home and go to "a land I will show you." Taking steps in the darkness is faith. The furniture of God’s dimension is all around us. We know it’s there because, like Helen Keller, we are constantly bumping into it, but taking the steps is still such a fearful thing. I can't see God--what if He's not who He says He is? Where is He leading me? I'm bruised from the collisions--"Why would a good God have put that in my way?! Why didn’t He take it out of my path, or at least guide me around it?"—but these things are proof of His existence, His ownership, and His goodness. We can't see the shapes and colors behind the dark or hear the other-dimensional melodies, but the obstacles He places in our path still teach us about Him. We bump into the furniture, grope for His hand, and feel the vibrations of His voice; we know He’s there.

Our darkness is our only opportunity to show Him we trust Him. When our eyes are opened we will see plainly, and then He will overwhelm us--there will be no faith, just seeing. I want a ferocious faith that takes steps in the dark and flings itself on His goodness. Everyone experiences darkness and silence, but knowing Him brings context to the darkness. Faith in His word and His character are our beacon of light. We do not stumble around in despair, but walk confidently in the light of hope, trusting Him in darkness or in light.

Monday, December 07, 2009

daily cycle

I wake up (kind of) to face breakfast--my albatross in life--with small boys dancing around my feet like baby birds with mouths clamoring for food.

At midnight I drop into bed with my mind still whirring about the deeper things in life that have simmered under the surface all day; now it's quiet and dark and I remove the lid and sample their flavors. Finally it's time to feed myself; it takes a while to sort things out before I can fall asleep.

I don't think most women expect the tension from what I call "the mundane maintenance of life" that intensifies when we have children. Maybe it's just me--I get clogged up inside because I'm constantly hitting the pause button on my thought life to find lost shoes, answer "why" questions, handle crises, trim grubby fingernails, and focus on the expectant little eyes watching me. These beautiful and demanding things force me to come down from my mental treehouse and be fully accessible to the moment. At the end of the day, it's not what's checked off my list that matters, but how present I was able to be with the people in my path. And kissing those soft little cheeks at the end of the day makes it all worth it.

Saturday, December 05, 2009


On Thanksgiving Day morning, my pastor Matt Chandler had a seizure and was rushed to the hospital where MRI and CT scans revealed a tumor in the right frontal lobe of his brain. Yesterday he was in surgery for seven hours and is recovering well so far--a great relief to the thousands who love him and have been posting encouragement, hope, and prayer on Facebook from all over the world.

I've thought a lot about death this week. And life. About what matters...and what doesn't. It turns out my list of what matters most goes far beyond important things like happiness and my family, as precious as they are. Watching Matt and his family walk this road has challenged me:
  • to quit wasting time on things that don't matter
  • to stare in the face of suffering and trust fiercely in God's goodness
  • to stop coddling the part of me that wants my own way
  • to continually persist in surrendering all I am, all I have, and all I want to God
  • to let God's view of me shape my life, not that of culture or other people
We have fasted, prayed, and pleaded for Matt's life, but most of all we've flung ourselves in wonder on God's goodness and have been reminded that keeping our hands open to the Lord is the only way to peace and joy. Everything I am and everything I have belongs to God: my husband, my children, my friendships, my finances, my health--everything. It is His to do with what He will. I just want more of Him. And if suffering gets me more of Him, I will walk through it with joy. He is my great reward--not anything He gives, but He Himself.
Steve McCoy explains on his blog the "deep blessing of having our theology put to the test:"
"It reveals whether we truly believe God is in control. Whether our peace will come from laying our anxieties before him. Whether we believe our spouse is the treasure God intends. Whether God is truly a greater treasure for us than our spouse. It's God's mercy that we go through times where there is nothing to lean on but Him."
Thank you, God, for Your "deep blessings" that push us to long for You beyond our capacity. You heal us body and soul.

Thank you, Matt. You stir up my affection for Him even in your suffering. Praying constantly for your quick recovery. Come back to us soon. We love you more than you know.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

small god

Your small god is made in our image
impotent
sympathetic
effeminate
surprised
disappointed

human

he is us.

We run in small-god circles
praising glimmers in each other
in ourselves
so we don’t have to look up
at the face
watching us.

Friday, July 10, 2009

piano for sale: pictures

This is a totally random post intended for those in my homeschool co-op because, being the proud wife of a techie, I couldn't spend time figuring out how to attach photos to a post on our Yahoo group.

Happy weekending, everyone. :)




Friday, July 03, 2009

pacifier idolatry

"Tomorrow night will be your first night as a REAL big boy!" I explained to Denton enthusiastically. "We're going to get rid of the pacifiers and you can go to sleep on your own, just like Creed does!"

"Okay, Mommy!" he agreed. "I want to be a big boy!"

Bedtime came and I had already removed the pacifiers to the top of the toy shelves. After several mournful attempts to get me to return the pacifiers (tearfully explaining that he didn't want to be a big boy after all; that he really needs the pacifiers; that he doesn't want to do this anymore; that he wants "the cool of the pacifier;" etc.) and several course corrections, he came sobbing to the door again:

"Mommy?"
"What."
"I just have to say one thing."
"What is it?"

(long pause)

"Uh...it's that I just really want my pacifier."
"Denton."
"What..."
"You already told me this and my answer was 'No.' My answer is still 'no' and it will always be 'no.'"
"Ugh! Mommy!! I don't want you to SAY this!!!"
"Close the door and go back to your bed."
"Mommy, I am still sad!"
"I know. You just have to be brave. I'm sorry it's so hard...but you can do it! When you wake up in the morning you won't be sad anymore."

After separating the boys, it only took a few moments for the house to settle into blissful silence--they had both gone to sleep. Little did I know this was because Denton had climbed up his bookcase and acquired the coveted item. When I checked on him before I turned in for the night, there he was--out cold...with a pacifier dangling from his mouth. Mommy had officially lost the battle, but the war was still on.

A couple of days later, I bought a computer game that Denton really wanted. We installed it "together" with great ceremony. Then after we'd filled in his name and prep'd for the first game, I said, "Now we're going to turn it off. But if you can show me that you're a big boy tonight by going to sleep without your pacifier, you can get up in the morning and play this game all by yourself!"

"But I want to play it NOW, Mommy!" he protested.

"I know. But I'm not sure you're big enough to do it yet. You need to show me that you're a big boy tonight and then I'll know you're big enough to play your own computer game."

"Okay, Mommy," he said. And with that, he ran to his room, grabbed his pacifier, and threw it in the bathroom trash can. (I fished it out and disposed of it behind the scenes so he couldn't retrieve it in a weak moment later on.) I braced myself for bedtime, when he would want it back. But bedtime came and went with no resistance, no struggle, and no complaining! He went right to sleep and woke up to a morning of gaming.

What happened?

Denton found something he wanted MORE. The promise of gaming was so motivating that letting go of the pacifier was worth it.

How like Denton I am as I cling to the "fruitless joys" in my life, unwilling to let go of them for more of God. My little boy showed me that when I won't let go of something, it's because I love it most. When I love God more, the pain of letting other things go is overshadowed by my longing for Him. Even the "good" things in my life become chains to spiritual infancy if I become too attached to them. They are substitutions...pacifiers.
I often don't recognize my pacifiers as such because they aren't always tangible things. But they are always rooted in my desire to soothe myself rather than yielding to God and trusting Him for peace. Release and obedience is an act of worship; a declaration that He is sweeter to me than any other thing.
Your love is sweeter than all pleasure
Your love is richer than all treasure
Your love is better than all fruitless joys
You are better

None compare to You
With my heart and mind and soul
I'll chase You

(from "You Are Better" by Michael Bleeker and Steve Miller 2004)

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

defeating villains after dinner

[A snippet of conversation overheard while working on my laptop after dinner while the boys play.]

Creed and Denton are imagining that they're in a spaceship flying to Mars. They've set two mini trampolines up on end against each other to form a spaceship--their transport to various planets to complete their missions. In their first mission, Creed explains to Denton that he will likely encounter "Sand Monsters."

"AAAAAAGGGHHHH!!" Denton exclaims dramatically...but Creed quickly counters with "Nope. We're going to have to handle it."
"Oh." Denton says, calming himself. Creed explains that the sand monsters have dangerous brains but it's okay because OUR brains are very hard. They shoot the sand monsters with lotion and declare triumphantly, "They melted into quesadillas!"

"Alright!!!" they cry, congratulating each other.
"Now you be my partner!"
"Okay!" says the other one.
"Now let's go to Mombasa."
"Okay. Good job."
"I spotted Carmen Sandiego's footsteps!"
"Yes...we've found another clue!"
"THERE SHE IS!!!" (sound of footsteps in hot pursuit)
"Too bad, Carmen Sandiego!" a small voice says with expansive authority. "You're under arrest!"
"Great job, Hawkins."
"Now let's go to the planet Lexicon!"
"Awright!"
"Hey, I see words everywhere! There's WORD GIRL!"
"Change into the Cheesy Monster."
"Okay!"
"THIS is a job for WORD GIRL!!!"

(Sound of fierce scuffling, and protests of "Hey--NO!! I'm a good guy! I'm your partner!!" Somehow that gets ironed out and the team moves on in crime-fighting power.)

"YOU are deFEATed!!" (sound of acapella background music pouring from small lips)


I love my life.

Sunday, June 07, 2009

garments

Actions are clothing
Hiding…expressing—
The wrapper
All we see
of ourselves.
Of others.

Actions speak
But not the loudest.

The loudest sound pounds on in our ears
The background pulse;
Throbbing undercurrent of every deed.

POUND molestation
POUND feeding the hungry
POUND suicide
POUND going to church
POUND murder
POUND fasting
POUND rape
POUND giving to charity
POUND thirsting for power
POUND teaching Sunday School

POUND

POUND

POUND

Our incessant drive
Our one goal
Our true desire
Our central thrust:

SELF.

Controlling my own life.
Charting my own course.
Earning my own way.
Dominating you.
Dominating myself.
Dominating Him.

Through sin.
Through religion.
At our best.
At our worst.

We pump the same blood
With the same intensity.
The heinous criminal,
The devout lawkeeper.
We are the same.

But we don’t believe it
Because of the garments


Burn away the fabric of deeds
Good and bad;
Sins and morality;
They are chaff in the wind—
Ashes all.

The glare of naked skin is all we have.

No more security in the good I do
No more cowering in the shadow of the bad
Just me
Naked
Raw
Scorched
Singed
The truth
Exposed
Like a middle finger in my heart
Bent to self-exaltation

The good girl
Is
The murderer:

The law-keeper
Who
Won’t be ruled

I am what I am
All my bad
All my good
Tainted
and
Vulgar.

Glaring.

My sins
An unbleachable bloodstain
My righteousness
Bloody rags

ALL
An offense
To His holiness
The middle finger
In my heart
Thrusting at heaven
Screaming
I WILL DO IT MYSELF


Into the naked crowd of the world
He stakes His claim
Through tendons and flesh
Hands open and writhing
Smeared with my pain;
My rage at His claims to supremacy
In a shower of my spit and cursing
He screams toward heaven

I WILL DO IT MYSELF


And becomes
My garment.

Saturday, June 06, 2009

Famine

Surrounded by delicacies
Refinements
Flavors
Aromas
Savoring each morsel
Filling every inner sanctum

Soul cramping
Growling
Empty and craving
Malnourished
And
Dying

Thursday, May 07, 2009

cravings, culture, and Christians

I think our efforts as evangelical Christians to "be culturally relevant" are largely backfiring, especially with younger people who are craving a sense of reverence, stillness, beauty, and the eternal in their lives.

Many churches have gone "mega" (huge stadium-style buildings, entertainment-based services, shorter sermons, "seeker-sensitive" styling, etc.) in an attempt to make Christ relevant to the average unchurched person.

The problem is...Christ IS relevant to the average unchurched person--already. All this hype only makes it look like He wasn't to begin with. And worse than that, it distracts from the eternal, universal Truth that can only be found in Him; it suffocates true worship by centering around US, not Him.

We're designed for worship. But when it terminates on us, even worship is unsatisfying. Instead of letting the gospel speak into and shape our current experience, we distract from it by "making it edgy" and pouring it into a corporate-organized, entertainment-styled package. We underestimate people (and God's ability to reach them), thinking they will only be interested in the truth if it comes to them in the season's hottest colors or via video venue with professionally-mixed music.

Have we forgotten that God's truth is timeless? That our little lives are just a drop in the bucket of history? That people want more than a hyped-up version of God? Have we created Him in our own image and lost sight of Who He really is? Because if we knew and experienced Him, we would feel no need to hype Him up. He is more than enough: uncontainable, immeasurable, and overwhelming. THIS is what we crave. We muddy His glory (and intensify our angst) when we reveal Him as anything less.

If we spent more time in stillness and humility before Him (individually and corporately), I think our need for all this drama would fade. Our lives would declare Him. People would see His true glory as we live transparently and they see what He can do in a yielded person. It's breathtaking.

We're technology minded, but exhausted from looking at screens. We Facebook, Twitter, text, post, and 12-step, but still ache for someone to really know us. We fill ourselves with fast food, caffeine, Velveeta, silicone, and HDTV, but crave what's real. God is the only One Who can give it to us. The church is not selling something, but revealing Someone. Let's not get in the way.

Monday, May 04, 2009

better than

The boys were eating ice cream cones the other day when Creed said thoughtfully, "Mommy, Daddy is better than ice cream."

Coming from a five year old, this is no small compliment. As fabulous as Daddy is, few five-year-old boys would rate him superior while submerged in chocolate ice cream.

Most of us are the same way. The "ice cream" of life varies from person to person, but those things we savor most compete with our adoration of God. What I immerse myself in is what I love. What I love is what I immerse myself in.

Lord, stir up my affections for You so that everything I experience satisfies and stimulates my hunger for You.

Psalm 63

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

actual vs. potential

It can be nerve racking to be around artists. To render well, they see every pore; every unplucked eyebrow; every sag; every wrinkle. An artist sees brutal reality and records it. Picasso the novice.

But there's another side to artists--the perspective of the visionary. The need to embellish, update, clarify, distort, and perfect. To render things not as they are, but as the artist sees them. Picasso the cubist.

The Master Artist sees beyond pores, eyebrows, sags, and wrinkles to my anxiety, fatigue, blind spots, error, mess, conflict, darkness. He also sees who I will be: beautiful, released, growing, trusting, new, different, bright. HOPE.

May I be the kind of artist who, seeing the flaws, emphasizes the beauty.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

speaking of bananas...

When Creed was really little, he asked me, "Mommy, what is the truth?"

"Oh," I started to reply, "the truth is...truth is...uh..." (this was going to be harder than I thought. Maybe a tangible illustration would help!)

"See the banana you have in your hand?" I asked him. He looked at it.
"If you told me that was a banana, that would be the TRUTH, because it IS a banana. If you say it's NOT a banana, that is NOT the truth."

He took this in.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, his face beaming with understanding. "YES!...the TRUTH is a BANANA!!"

It tooks us two years to undo that one.

Friday, April 17, 2009

In honor of my friend who's fallen in love

"Love is the most difficult and dangerous form of courage. Courage is the most desperate, admirable, and noble kind of love."
--Delmore Schwartz

"Love is a choice you make from moment to moment."
--Barabara De Angelis

"To love someone deeply gives you strength. Being loved by someone deeply gives you courage."
--Lao Tzu

"True love isn't so much a dreamy feeling that you have as it is an enduring commitment to give sacrificially--even, or perhaps especially, when you don't feel like it."
--William R. Mattox, Jr.

"You never lose by loving. You always lose by holding back."
--Barabara De Angelis

"To love at all is to be vulnerable."
--C. S. Lewis

proof of God's love

"While we were yet in weakness [powerless to help ourselves], at the fitting time Christ died for (in behalf of) the ungodly. Now it is an extraordinary thing for one to give his life even for an upright man, though perhaps for a noble and lovable and generous benefactor someone might even dare to die. But God shows and clearly proves His [own] love for us by the fact that while we were still sinners, Christ (the Messiah, the Anointed One) died for us. Therefore, since we are now justified (acquitted, made righteous, and brought into right relationship with God) by Christ's blood, how much more [certain is it that] we shall be saved by Him from the indignation and wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God through the death of His Son, it is much more [certain], now that we are reconciled, that we shall be saved (daily delivered from sin's dominion) through His [resurrection] life." --Romans 5:6-10

All Glorious Within

“The King’s daughter is all glorious within…” Psalm 45:13a

I work
Toning skin and muscle
Firming shape
Buying products to cover and conceal
Dedicating time to beauty

But beauty fades with time
And then the real will be unhid
Who am I then—
A mask removed;
An empty shell?

Or will beauty radiate with time—
Surging from a toned heart,
A glistening soul emerging through wrinkles;
Shaped by grace-encounters with God—
The light of Beauty’s gleam.

will (written 02.01.1995)

Mind throbbing
Heart aching
I wrestle
Spirit against Flesh
Clash of raw desires
I long to obey
And yet
I yearn to rebel
And as I hear the echoes
Of my sobs,
I begin to believe
That reality means
No one understands
I hear nails in the distance…
(like a dusty memory)
and see the open splintered flesh
and gouging thorns
and the Eyes…
they see my core
(core of weakness and passion)
and I tremble beneath his gaze
as I behold
the painful expression of His love
I begin to remember
That reality means
He understands
The intensity of my anguish

For He knows the cost of obedience
Even more than i

potter (song lyrics)

My world feels like it’s
spinning
spinning
spinning
So many decisions
So many revisions
So many directions
Crowding my heart
Filling my mind
All this uncertainty
Wanna leave it all behind me

And just when I think I’ve got it made
The Potter starts to spin my wheel and reshape the clay

CHORUS:
Oh, the Potter’s still shapin’ me
And I may not always be all that I want to be
But I know that He is makin’ somethin’ He wants to see
And
who am I
who am I
who am I
To ask Him why
Are You shaping me this way?
‘Cause He is the Potter…
And I am the clay.

Trying to squeeze myself into a mold
Hoping I can learn
Before the wheel ever starts to turn
Oh why can’t I remember
That His fingers are tender
And it’s only in the turning that He smoothes the roughest parts of me
His face glows with joy in His masterpiece
Yeah, His face glows with joy when He looks at me

CHORUS

graciela (written 03.22.1995)

Our meeting was the instant of befriending.
A sameness must have functioned as the glue
That kept you close to me, and me to you,
For since our lives are moving and amending,
To talk is now to work at comprehending.
Before, in all, we held a common view,
Now clashing, we defend what we think true,
With aim to mask sad hearts and wills unbending.
All efforts spiral more misunderstanding
And so we both retreat to newer places
With surface tones of friendship and politeness
And deeper truth of sorrow and contriteness
Our gardened hearts we close as empty spaces
Heartstrings tender, growing taught…and reprimanding.

skimming the top of the world (written 03.07.1995)

(for Michael)

The river called to me
As you and I sat wordlessly on the hot sand
One toe at a time
We sank into the water
(skin popping out with cold)
splash-cooling the hot vinyl seat
we mounted
(suddenly awake)
we flew across the surface…
your hair whipped glossy black at my nose
I held on behind you

Fast at first—fueled by new freedom—wind pounding our face
When we realized we had all the time in the world
We let the motor rest and it began to purr
Then I saw you
And I held on tight
I felt it coming

You flashed me a boyish grin
And I held on
Knowing if I let go I’d be without you
(and in trouble)
gliding along the gray-green surface

so deep we couldn’t see the bottom

you began to risk it all and I did too
(it was either that or let go)
we fell off pretty hard once
gasping in cold water
fighting the strong current
but soon we were back up
laughing
cooled by the plunge

I clung to you
And we left river-weeds at the banks,
Speeding over submerged rocks
We made a game of hitting waves
Balanced Together we could fly!
I looked back once and saw a trail of playful foam behind us…

We have never seen the shore since

afternoon after rain (written 03.07.1995)

The clouds molt their moisture on the mountains
Softening the crisp edges

Mountains
Layering themselves
Settling heavily on the horizon
Collecting raindrop rivers in their folds
Cold clouds dust the mountain-tips with snowy fog
And laugh
At the blue sky
Peeking around the edges

writer's block (written 02.01.1995)

My mind hibernates.

Last summer it fed
On thought
And irony,
Chewing on profundity like a ravenous cub
With never a premonition of the coming frost.
Feasting felt eternal

But then
The air began to crust;
I shivered at the first snowflake
And retreated,
Full and fat,
In comfort for a season.

Sleeping,
I dream
Of green and growing times
And easy expansion

I close my eyes to erase the cave;
To bring back the summer…
The snow at the entrance
Builds
Barricading me in lethargy.

I mumble a groan of anesthetized terror
And rush to tell myself
It’s only a dream

fear (written 01.04.1995)

To fear
Is to retreat to the corners of your soul
And slide like a fetus
Into position in the dark

It is to forget
How it feels to be warm
(sensing only cold)
and wonder if you will ever survive.

Fear
is an iron clamp
that tightens around your neck;
an ulcerated hole
draining hope and contentment
through your stomach

Fear
is a gargoyle
that swallows you
whole.
You sit, being digested, in its belly
And long for life.

When fear freezes me
I center my eyes
On Your face
His cold claw ungrips me,
The ball and chain
left behind
in the
dark.

blades (one of my old poems)

Imprisoned,
My Love lies dormant
As in wait
For the warmth of the spring thaw.

Winter renders emotions motionless
Huddled hopefully in my hungry heart
The eyes of Patience are sealed open
Scrutinizing the cold white snow
For the inevitable protrusion of a warm green
Blade.

coming home

Water slapped against the sides of the skip. The lake bubbled with the flip of a young trout’s tail. A crisp breeze rustled the tops of the poplars, perfumed with juniper and cedar. At the other end of the pond, a flock of ducks suddenly quacked and honked, flapping their wings in consternation as two mallards fought over a ragged-looking female. In the dimming light of evening, crickets in the reeds at the water’s edge began their symphonic chorus as if to serenade the waning warmth of summer.

On the dock sat a man with graying temples, his gabardine suit wrinkled from a long flight, top collar button undone beneath a loosened silk tie. Wearily, he propped a burgundy briefcase against the weathered post and stood his cell phone beside the polished Italian leather. He sighed, ran his fingers through his thinning hair, lay his tortoise-shell glasses on the splintering boards of the dock, and leaned his chin in his hands.

Across the lake, the gnarled oak that had shaded all his summers leaned beckoningly over the water. Its heavy rope swayed gently in the evening breeze, brushing the tops of the cattails edging the banks. The deepening lake shadows flickered in the light of the rising moon as the last summer fireflies began to hover over the grassy banks.

Suddenly, he felt the freedom of summer nights long past. Leaving his inhibitions on the dock with his clothes and clinging to the scratchy knots of the rope, he swung out over the cattails and beyond the gradual slope of the bank, hurling himself into the deep dark of the lake. The moonlight glinted off the spray of his splash like beaded diamonds. The water seemed to peel him in its innocence, washing him in memories it had given him so many summers ago—his first swim; first fish; first kiss.

His phone was ringing on the dock, but all he heard was the song of the frogs and the hum of the cicadas in the trees.

patience with yourself

"Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections but instantly set about remedying them--every day begin the task anew."

--François de Sales (1567-1622)

the man in the arena

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."

--Theodore Roosevelt, "Man in the Arena" Speech given April 23, 1910

On these grounds: Thank you President Bush, and all those who have the courage to take on the role of President of the United States.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

from love alone

"Should I worship Him from fear of hell, may I be cast into it. Should I serve Him from desire of gaining heaven, may He keep me out. But should I worship Him from love alone, may He reveal Himself to me, that my whole heart may be filled with His love and presence."

--Sadhu Sundar Singh (1889-1929), Meditations on Various Aspects of the Spiritual Life

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

entertainment-based worship?

I am beginning to view doctrine more broadly--as more than just a set of beliefs. I really think how we worship declares what we believe about God just as much as our doctrinal statement (maybe even more).

What are we saying about God when we:
  • come to church in flip flops and jeans
  • create worship venues so everyone can sing songs in the style they prefer
  • build purely functional "worship centers" devoid of any beauty or embellishment
  • eliminate light and windows from the sanctuary in favor of media screens
  • rename sanctuaries "worship centers" and churches "campuses"
  • fill worship services with dramas and announcements/ads for upcoming events, and any moments of silence with music
  • greet worshippers with "enjoy the service today"

I worry that we are remaking worship into something for us rather than valuing it as a gift we bring to God. More and more it seems to reflect/imitate our culture, rather than stand in contrast to it. When I enter a church and it feels the same as the rest of my life (complete with Christian pop music I've heard on the radio all week, the same rushed pace, the same noise level, the same dress code, the same kind of building I've been in all week), I miss a sense of having been in God's presence. Are we trying to create something no different than every other part of our lives, or is it happening accidentally?

could this be any more complicated?!

***This is an old post from several years ago on my old blog, but I stumbled upon it and thought it was funny. It may not be to you. Just humor me.***

After a visit to the pediatrician this morning to have six-month-old Denton examined (he's had diarrhea for about four weeks now), I was sent down to the lab for the paraphernalia I would need to collect a stool sample. Little did I know that I would need to collect four stool samples, three to be placed in the vials with liquid chemicals (which must stay at room temperature), and one to be placed in the empty vial (which must be refrigerated immediately after collection and for no more than a period of three days).

While I was wondering how I was going to collect the diarrhea (since it is so liquidy that it is immediately absorbed into the diaper), the lab lady handed me an interesting little bag with a urinal-shaped foam "sticker" affixed to the top, explaining that Denton must wear this accessory in his diaper to catch any urine, because urine will contaminate the diarrhea to be tested (as if it wasn't contaminated to begin with). My mind swimming with details, I ventured a question: "How should I collect the 'specimen?'" to which she replied, "Well, when you think he's going to go, just try to put some of it in the vial." I tried not to laugh. "I never know when he's going to go," I explained, "and when he does, it immediately soaks into the diaper."

We finally came up with the "plastic tarp" approach, where I will strip Denton naked and leave him on a plastic tarp to play, with the urinal bag adhered to his body to keep any potential urine separate from "the specimen." Then when "the specimen" makes its appearance, I will scoop it into each container, bathe my son, and move on with my life (which right now is full of packing for our move, showing the house at any given moment, and caring for my two year old). Since Denton is only yielding "specimens" once every day or two, I have to plan my tarp day carefully. Once the first "specimen" is collected and in the refrigerator, the clock starts ticking: I have three days to collect the other three, since after three days the refrigerated one becomes invalid.

Sunday's the day, folks. We'll start early in the morning and hopefully we'll have collected all the toxic waste we need for delivery to the lab on Monday...as well as acquired an entirely new set of talents to add to my mommy resume.

before

Before I was a mom,
I slept all night and woke up rested.
I never worried about staying up too late.
I brushed my teeth every day and showered each morning.
I went to movies on the spur of the moment and had dinner in cloth-napkin restaurants.
I completed my train of thought and checked things off my list.

Before I was a mom,
My house stayed clean.
My shoes were always where I’d left them.
I never tripped over toys or found Cheerios in strange places.
I never wondered if my plants were poison­ous.
I never closed the bathroom door or scanned the floor for choking hazards.
I never worried about shopping cart handles.

Before I was a mom,
I never held down a screaming child in the doctor’s office.
I never felt my heart break when I couldn't stop the hurt.
I never looked into teary eyes and cried back.
I never wished it could have been me instead.

Before I was a mom,
I felt mature.
I knew the proper response to any situation.
I didn’t know my child would surprise me.
I didn’t know I’d doubt myself.
I didn’t know things would be complicated.
I didn’t know the job would be so hard.

Before I was a mom,
I didn’t know I’d drive more carefully,
Take fewer risks and more precautions.
I never had nightmares of being parted from my child.
I never cried over Amber alerts
Or muted violent TV commercials.
I never trembled when I watched the news
Or worried about how the world would be after I was gone.

Before I was a mom,
I never sat up at night watching a baby sleep.
I never kept holding him just because I didn’t want it to end.
I didn’t know my baby’s sweet smell
Or the sound of his soft breathing.
I’d never felt his warm face on my cheek
Or his little arms around my neck.

Before I was a mom,
My heart was my own.
I didn’t know someone so small could make my life so full.
I didn't know feeding a hungry baby would feed a part of me, too.
I didn’t know I had so many empty places
Or so many capable of overflowing.
I didn’t know my heart was so vulnerable…
Or so strong.

I didn’t know what I was missing.

together

Raindrop
Cold and single
Throws itself from one dark cloud

Droplets
Falling
Blend and mingle
Soothing storm from raindrop crowd

On my own
I barely moisten
One fat worm or blade of grass;
In the company of dozens
We become a stormy blast

cork

(A poem inspired by a cork I found.)

Her dusty soul-cellar
Houses bottled memories
Like aging grapes
Trampled into wine
Corked and hidden deep in the dark.

The fruit of youth ripened long ago
And was crushed beneath the feet of life

Her thirst would quench
If she’d pop the cork and drink deep

But she’s swept the cellar clean
And whisked the cobwebs into dust.
Ascending to the brighter world upstairs,
She paints a smile

While all the while
The grapes
(And her heart)
Are aging.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Picasso mommy

...have found several very old friends from school days who are blossoming in their artistic talents--edgy, raw, gaspingly artistic people. I admit it is making me feel fairly boring. My boys need the structure and stability of a clean house, family dinners, hugs and snuggles, a happy Mommy. And I love giving that to them and relating to other moms in the same stage of life. Being their mommy and feeling their warm little arms around my neck and their sweet breath on my cheek is indescribably beautiful, and I embrace it with my whole self. But what do I do with my artist that is sprawling parched in the dust right now? I worry about her sometimes--that she'll expire before I have a chance to feed her; that I'll be so old by the time I get to her that she won't recognize me anymore. And I feel all stirred up inside when I see the blogs and portfolios of my friends...as if I not only have something to say, but something to prove. I often feel like a Picasso with the cognitive dissonance of "soccer mom," "raw artist," and "Christ follower" all sprawling in one distorted view with all their angles rubbing each other raw...and yet when you step back and see the whole, it makes sense.

Monday, April 13, 2009

"Mommy, why does God love us?"

There was a long pause as I considered this.

My mind wandered back to the first moment I held my infant boy. So helpless. He didn't even know who I was--only that I was familiar; that something inside him was drawn to me; needed me; would die without me. He didn't know me; didn't love me. He just needed me. He hadn't done anything yet except be mine. And that was why I loved him. I loved him because I made him. I loved him because he was mine to love.

Romans 5:6-10

Maybe He loves us because that's what He's like.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

quiet contemplation of Him

"It is not necessary to maintain a conversation when we are in the presence of God. We can come into His presence and rest our weary souls in quiet contemplation of Him. Our groanings, which cannot be uttered, rise to Him and tell Him better than words how dependent we are upon Him."

--O. Hallesby, Prayer

last hour of my life

"Resolved, never to do anything which I should be afraid to do if it were the last hour of my life."

--Jonathan Edwards (1703-1758)

consistent lives

"We are not only to renounce evil, but to manifest the truth. We tell people the world is vain; let our lives manifest that it is so. We tell them that our home is above and that all these things are transitory. Does our dwelling look like it? O to live consistent lives!"

--J. Hudson Taylor, Days of Blessing in Inland China

take up your cross

Then [Jesus] said to them all, "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lost it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it."

--Luke 9:23-24

true prayer

"God is always present, always available. At whatever moment in which one turns to him the prayer is received, is heard, is authenticated, for it is God who gives our prayer its value and its character, not our interior dispositions, not our fervor, not our lucidity. The prayer which is pronounced for God and accepted by Him becomes, by that very fact, a true prayer."

--Jacques Ellul, Prayer and Modern Man

New Year's prayer

"Almighty and most merciful Father, by Whose providence my life has been prolonged, and Who has granted me now to begin another year of probation, vouchsafe me such assistance of Thy Holy Spirit that the continuance of my life may not add to the measure of my guilt, but that I may so repent of the days and years passed in neglect of the duties which Thou has set before me, in vain thoughts, in sloth, and in folly, that I may apply my heart to true wisdom, by diligence redeem the time lost, and by repentance, obtain pardon, for the sake of Jesus Christ."

--Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)

15 things to pray for your children

  1. their salvation
  2. their mate
  3. that they would fall in love with God's Word
  4. that God would keep them from evil
  5. that they would have a conscience void of offense before God and man
  6. that their character would be more valuable to them than their credentials
  7. that they would stand up for what's right, even if it means standing alone
  8. that they would be kept from the love of money
  9. that they would be kept morally pure
  10. that they would have the heart of a servant
  11. that eternity would burn in their hearts
  12. that sin would always be distasteful to them and that they would be easily broken over sin
  13. that they would love each other
  14. that they would trust God with their parents and not allow rebellion to set in
  15. that they would never grow bitter against God, regardless of the hardship

to finish well

"I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me--the task of testifying to the gospel of God's grace."

--Acts 29:24

The true test of a servant

The true test of a servant is if I act like one when I'm treated like one. Matthew 23:11

--my dad

morning watch

"The morning watch is essential. You must not face the day until you have faced God, nor look into the face of others until you have looked into His. You cannot expect to be victorious if the day begins only in your own strength. Face the work of every day with the influence of a few thoughtful, quiet moments with your heart and God. Do not meet other people, even thos of your own home until you have first met the great Guest and honored Companion of your life--Jesus Christ. Meet Him alone. Meet Him regularly. Meet Him with His open Book of counsel before you; and face the regular and the irregular duties of each day with the influence of His personality definitely controlling your every act."

--Mrs. Charles Cowman, Streams in the Desert

Self-respect & discipline

"Self-respect is the fruit of discipline; the sense of dignity grows with the ability to say no to oneself."

--Abraham J. Heschel

Every time you make a choice...

"Every time you make a choice, you are turning the central part of you, the part of you that chooses, into something a little different from what it was before. And, taking your life as a whole, with all your innumerable choices, all your life long you are slowly turning this central thing either into a Heaven creature or into a hellish creature--either into a creature that is in harmony with God, and with other creatures, and with itself, or else into one that is in a state of war and hatred with God, and with its fellow creatures and with itself. To be the one kind of creature is Heaven: that is, it is joy, and peace, and knowledge, and power. To be the other means madness, horror, idiocy, rage, impotence, and eternal loneliness. Each of us at each moment is progressing to the one state or the other."

--C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

Breaking bad habits

"If we would put some slight stress on ourselves at the beginning, then afterwards we should be able to do all things with ease and joy. It is a hard thing to break through a habit, and a yet harder thing to go contrary to our own will. Yet, if thou overcome not slight and easy obstacles, how wilt thou overcome greater ones? Withstand they will at the beginning, and unlearn an evil habit, lest it lead thee little by little into worse difficulties. Oh, if thou knewest what peace to thyself thy holy life should bring, ..and what joy to others, methinketh thou wouldst be more zealous for spiritual profit."

--Thomas a Kempis, Of the Imitation of Christ

Changing

"First say to yourself what you would be; then do what you have to do."

--Epictetus

Friday, April 10, 2009

Drama, drama, drama!

D looked up at me and between sobs and with great consternation said, "Mommy, I don't know HOW to be a bat!"

Mapping spiritual experience in the brain

This is a fascinating article about the relationship between scientific and spiritual experience as seen in the study of the brain. Very cool.


TILL WE HAVE MINDS
William P Cheshire Jr. Ethics & Medicine. Highland Park: Spring 2009. Vol. 25, Iss. 1; pg. 11, 7 pgs
Abstract (Summary)

"2 Constraining their definition of truth to "factual human knowledge," the panel, led by professor of molecular biology Lee Silver, posed the provocative question, whether "science has effectively demonstrated that religious beliefs have no place in the rational mind. Language, for example, has been mapped in this way, as fMRI studies have shown involvement of the occipital cortex in reading text, the left posterior temporal lobe (Wernicke's area) in comprehending language, the right temporal lobe in assessing context, and the left inferior frontal lobe (Broca's area) in producing speech.4 In recent years fMRI has turned to investigating the moral domain.


Full Text (2865 words)
Copyright Bioethics Press Spring 2009

[Headnote]
GREY MATTERS

Nothing is yet in its true form.

C. S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces1

A panel of Princeton University scientists recently gathered together to deliberate "whether strong religious belief can coexist with reliance on science."2 Constraining their definition of truth to "factual human knowledge," the panel, led by professor of molecular biology Lee Silver, posed the provocative question, whether "science has effectively demonstrated that religious beliefs have no place in the rational mind."2 How one decides that question guides the answer to a related question essential for the Christian physician. How can faith in Jesus Christ coexist with medical science?

Central to newfound confidence in the claim that science has superseded faith is the expanding scientific account not only of nature but also of human nature. At the leading edge of this research, neuro science is unveiling spectacular discoveries about the brain. Neuron by neuron, the brain is yielding its intimate details to sophisticated neurochemical, neurogenetic and neuroimaging methodologies. The molecular basis of perception, reasoning, decision, faith and belief- every category of thought - has become accessible to the scrutiny of neuro science. Neuroscience thus offers an increasingly detailed account - in purely physical terms - of mental processes that previously were understood to be within the purview of philosophy, religion and the arts.

Functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI), which detects regional increases in blood flow that accompany neural activity, has become a powerful tool to investigate the neuronal architecture of the brain systems underlying specific cognitive functions. Whereas in the past, localizing brain functions relied on the study of patients with brain lesions that happened to destroy those functions,3 fMRI permits precise, noninvasive, spatial and temporal resolution of psychological processes in the intact, living brain. Brain regions showing increased metabolic activity over baseline will "light up" on fMRI scans. Language, for example, has been mapped in this way, as fMRI studies have shown involvement of the occipital cortex in reading text, the left posterior temporal lobe (Wernicke's area) in comprehending language, the right temporal lobe in assessing context, and the left inferior frontal lobe (Broca's area) in producing speech.4

In recent years fMRI has turned to investigating the moral domain. Studies of subjects presented with moral dilemmas have shown that there is no one moral center in the brain.5'6 Rather, moral thought corresponds to a complex network of complementary cognitive processes traceable to a variety of discrete brain regions. Moral discernment engages systems of sensory decoding and abstract reasoning. Intuitive judgments heed long-term memories' emotional tags. Conscious decision integrates the sometimes competing neural streams of reasoning and intuition in the dorsolateral prefrontal and anterior cingulate cortices, where there exists what C. S. Lewis recognized metaphorically as a liaison between "cerebral man and visceral man."7'8 Finally, implementation, planning, and self-control of moral action require healthy frontal lobes.

Religious thought, too, has reclined under the scanner for analysis. Some of the brain correlates of belief and disbelief have recently been identified.9 Just as for language and moral judgment, investigations have not found any one "God spot" in the brain, as if religious ideas were compartmentalized and detached from other thoughts and concerns.

In an experiment that produced a brain phenomenon apparently indistinguishable from spiritual experience, neuro scientist Michael Persinger applied transcranial magnetic stimulation to the cerebral cortex of healthy volunteers. Even when the subjects were not told that the device was turned on, they reported a mystical sense of another's presence.10 Philosopher Patricia Churchland cites that study as evidence that all religious experiences are ultimately neurobiological in cause.11 However, one synthetic experience in the laboratory does not invalidate the spiritual awareness that many Christians testify has provided them comfort or insight during life's trials. Artificially inducing what Lewis called a numinous sensation12 by stimulating the parietal cortex no more disproves the existence of the transcendent than would stimulating the occipital cortex and causing the illusion of light disprove the existence of the sun and stars. The intensity of subjective experience in isolation from reason is not necessarily a reliable guide to truth.

If future technologies were to penetrate the brain with even higher resolution and, applying every conceivable biophysical stimulus, still fail to extract an objective sign of mental transcendence, the case for Christianity would not be weakened. Scientific facts, while valid and useful, are not the only ways of knowing about the world. The competence of science is limited to the measurement of phenomena that are quantifiable and consistently reproducible.13 These include the structure of inanimate matter and predictable patterns of fields of energy. Even here nature conceals subtle details that are permanently incalculable and forever untraceable. Most importantly, the universally human questions of origin, purpose, and ultimate meaning surpass what can be fully answered at the material level. Such questions engage the mind and its capacities for abstract thought, conscience and personal agency, all of which resist a complete explanation in scientific terms. At the patient's bedside, physicians understand that beyond scientific diagrams, gene maps and charts, there is a further aspect to human nature. The truly spiritual aspect of the human mind may be a gentle whisper, which science, despite its remarkable proficiency, overlooks (1 Kings 19:12, NIV; John 3:8; Heb 11:3).

Prevailing interpretations of neuroscience research presuppose that all brain phenomena are causally determined chains of biophysical events. If truth be established by the volume of data, then a naturalistic appraisal of the human mind would seem to be gaining in acceptance. Frequent comparisons of the brain to the computer reinforce the broader cultural plausibility of a materialistic understanding of human nature. Within that framework, there can be no assurance that the concept of free will, with its weighty implications for personal moral responsibility and autonomy in medical decision-making, has any meaning. Neuropsychologists now debate whether free will might be nothing more than an illusion, since the outcome of a decision can be predicted by changes detectable in the prefrontal and parietal cortices seconds before entering conscious awareness.14 Alongside increasing optimism in science is a growing skepticism among many contemporary philosophers who ask whether all of consciousness ultimately reduces to an accidental matrix of synaptic impulses.15-18 According to that view, one's decision to choose the good over selfish interests would be automatically determined solely by antecedent physical forces. Whatever one's reply to Jesus' question, "Who do you say I am?" (Matt 16:15), the materialist recognizes only a reflex, as if belief were equivalent to a yawn.

So impressive is the expanding horizon of neuroscience that Francis Crick, codiscoverer of DNA's double helix, has posited what he called his "astonishing hypothesis," which is, "... that 'You,' your joys and your sorrows, your memories and your ambitions, your sense of personal identity and free will, are in fact no more than the behaviour of a vast assembly of nerve cells and their associated molecules."19

Despite the rhetorical certainty the words, "in fact" seem to imply, Crick's claim is no more than a hypothesis. It is not, of course, a scientific hypothesis, but rather a metaphysical one which exceeds what science can legitimately claim. Crick's sweeping negative assertion that we are no more than cells and molecules defies verification, since the scientific method is qualified to describe only what can be empirically observed and quantified. By defining human consciousness exclusively in terms of matter in motion, Crick assumes as a premise the very conclusion that he wishes to reach.

The contributions of neuro science are necessary, but not sufficient, to explain human thought. A functional neuroanatomical account of moral reasoning broadens the explanation of how one reasons, but it cannot show how one ought to reason. Nor can a scientific description limited to factual knowledge about the brain inspire the care of the sick or resolve difficult dilemmas in medical ethics. Less astonishingly, acceptance of Crick's hypothesis would reduce the value one accords to others. A materialistic appraisal of human nature would thus impoverish medicine. The obligations to love one's neighbor (Lev 19:18; Mark 12:31) and serve one another (Gal 5:13) would make little sense if the ethos of health care were based on the lonely view that patients are essentially churning aggregations of molecules.

Nor does the naturalistic methodology of neuro science adequately account for the scientist behind the experiment whose mind engages nature by drawing inferences and reasoning with inquisitiveness and intentionality. There is, after all, a Crick behind the hypothesis. C. S. Lewis considered naturalism to be self-refuting because it is inconsistent with the validity of reasoning, on which all possible knowledge depends.20 If mental processes were dictated solely by a deterministic biophysical chain of causation in the brain, then the scientist would have no reason to believe that scientific insights into nature are true and trustworthy rather than just a reflection of the way the brain happens to work.21 Attempts to explain reason naturalistically end up explaining it away.

Not only must the reasoning mind in some way stand apart from nature to comprehend nature, but the mind that considers science encounters, knowingly or not, signs of a creative Mind behind nature (Psalm 19:1; Rom 1:20). The mere possibility of engaging in scientific investigation depends on the attributes of that Mind. On this point the record of history is instructive, for science as a fruitful and self-sustaining enterprise was stillborn in previous cultures that believed nature to be undirected or the Mind behind nature to be capricious.22 Modern science emerged in history at a time when Western European culture was steeped in the understanding that the universe is the orderly creation of a rational God. For only a rational God could have authored a coherent universe that scientists can confidently investigate and hope to comprehend.22 The salient question, then, is not whether religious beliefs have a place in the rational mind but, more properly, what kinds of religious beliefs are rationally compatible with all that is known about nature and the human condition.

If the scientific account has truly displaced rational belief in God, then the Christian faith is empty and futile, the dead perish without hope of afterlife, sins are unfor given, and those who place their hope in Christ are the most pitiable of people (1 Cor 15:17-19). There is, however, much more than the narrow analysis of naturalism to consider. A worldview purged of theological content casts aside the accumulated wisdom of thousands of years of Western history informed by monotheism, disregards the contemporary discourse concerning the unavoidably transcendent implications of the origin of the universe and its particular conditions finely tuned to support life,23 and ignores the healing contributions of innumerable healthcare professionals through the ages inspired to serve the sick by their faith in a loving God.24

There is a larger view of human nature than is dreamt of in the philosophy of naturalism. Judeo-Christian teaching bases human dignity on the understanding that humankind is created in the image and likeness of God (Gen 1:26). This imago Dei, which all men and women bear, is not a scientific notion and thus cannot be defined by physical, genetic or cognitive criteria alone. From a biblical perspective, every human being has value beyond measure (Matt 18:14, 25:40; 2 Pet 3:9). The Hebrew Scriptures declare (e.g., 2 Chron 7:14; Psalm 105:4; Jer 29:13) and the New Testament affirms (e.g., Matt 11:28-30; John 3:16; Rev 3:20), that human beings have the special capacity to enter into a personal relationship with God. This larger view accommodates all that science reveals about human nature. That the human brain is a vast assembly of 100 billion neurons exchanging signals through 160 trillion synapses25 comes as no surprise to the biblical perspective on humanity as "fearfully and wonderfully made" (Psalm 139:14). To the scientific account the larger view adds hope exceeding anything technology can deliver (John 11:25; 1 Cor 15:22, 51-57; Col 1:27).26

This larger view promises that science can never disprove the existence of God. There is no area of brain function off limits to neuro science, provided the experiments are conducted ethically. Scientific discoveries have hardly put to rest the dialectic between science and faith. On the contrary, they reinvigorate it. Thinking about the brain with all the mind deepens the scientific appraisal. In so doing, it is important to be attentive to unstated philosophical presuppositions regarding the nature of humanity and reality. Rather than question whether science has replaced religion, a better question to ask is, what should be the right relationship of one to the other?

The story of neuro science is punctuated with reminders that the reality of God is not dependent on human thought, as if His sovereign provision and guidance were the result of human striving or faith the product of sufficient effort to imagine Him clearly. There is assurance in His grace and rest in His presence (Psalms 23, 46:10).

The subject of neuro science - the human brain - is at once wondrous and wanting. In all of creation nothing more intricate is known. Yet its thoughts are imperfect and its behavior gravely flawed. The mind is not yet in its true form. The renewing of the mind requires communion with the mind of God (Isa 1:18; Rom 12:2), whose thoughts the Scriptures indicate are vast and profound (Psalms 92:5, 139:17, NIV) and utterly unlike our own (Isaiah 55:8-9). It is unnecessary to ask what kind of science can apprehend the mind of God, as if that were possible. For God, in His mercy, through His Son has bridged the unfathomable divide and invites all people to draw near to Him (Rom 10:610). The mind of faith looks to what science has not yet seen (Heb 11:1). Herein lies the hope of seeing God face to face (1 Cor 13:12).

[Sidebar]
The views expressed herein are his own and do not necessarily reflect the positions of Mayo Clinic, USA.
This article first appeared in Volume 39, No. 4 (Winter 2008) of Today's Christian Doctor, the journal of the Christian Medical & Dental Associations; P.O. Box 7500; Bristol, TN 37621-7500. Phone: (423) 844-1000; Website: www.cmda.org. Used by permission.

[Reference] » View reference page with links
References
1. Lewis CS. Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold (1956). Orlando, FL: Harcourt, 1984, p. 305.
2. Princeton Alumni Weekly, May 14, 2008, p. 18.
3. Damasio H, Grabowski T, Frank R, et al. The return of Phineas Gage: clues about the brain from the skull of a famous patient. Science 1994; 264: 1102-1105.
4. Bookheimer S. Functional MRI of language: new approaches to understanding the cortical organization of semantic processing. Annu Rev Neurosci 2002; 25: 151-188.
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6. Moll J, de Oliveira-Souza R, Eslinger PJ. Morals and the human brain: a working model. NeuroReport 2003; 14(3): 299-305.
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8. Cheshire WP. When eloquence is inarticulate. Ethics & Medicine 2006; 22(3): 135-138.
9. Harris S, Sheth SA, Cohen MS. Functional neuroimaging of belief, disbelief, and uncertainty. Ann Neurol 200 8;63 (2): 141-147.
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11. Churchland PS. Brain-Wise: Studies in Neurophilosophy. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2002, pp. 386-392.
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That's what eggs'll do to ya

The other day my three year old ate three eggs for breakfast (!), then declared, "I'm thinking of Spain!"

If You Give a Mom a Muffin

(Author unknown)

If you give a mom a muffin,
She'll want a cup of coffee to go with it.
She'll pour herself some.
Her three-year-old will spill the coffee.
She'll wipe it up.
Wiping the floor, she'll find dirty socks.
She'll remember she has to do laundry.
When she puts the laundry in the washer,
She'll trip over boots and bump into the freezer.
Bumping into the freezer will remind her she has to plan for supper.
She will get out a pound of hamburger.
She'll look for her cookbook ("101 Things To Do With a Pound of Hamburger").
The cookbook is sitting under a pile of mail.
She will see the phone bill, which is due tomorrow.
She will look for her checkbook.
The check book is in her purse that is being dumped out by her two-year-old.
She'll smell something funny.
She'll change the two year old's diaper.
While she is changing the diaper, the phone will ring.
Her five-year-old will answer and hang up.
She'll remember she wants to phone a friend for coffee.
Thinking of coffee will remind her that she was going to have a cup.
And chances are...
If she has a cup of coffee,
Her kids will have eaten the muffin that went with it.

Wednesday, April 08, 2009

The Bitter Homeschooler's Wish List

Thank you Deborah Markus, for articulating what many of us feel but might never say! Read her funny and insightful list from Secular Homeschooling, Issue #1, Fall 2007 and have a good laugh.

http://www.secular-homeschooling.com/001/bitter_homeschooler.html

home schooling vision

I'm not sure when it happened exactly, but tonight I realized that somewhere along the line I've become a home schooling mom. Not a mom who makes sure her kids are learning all they can at school. Not a mom who's involved in her kids' education. Not a mom who does school with her kids at home. A home schooling mom. A change has occurred in how I view learning. I hadn't realized it was that different from public school teachers, school board members, or the average parent...until now.

Tonight I ate dinner with a small group of other moms from my church. Somehow we stumbled onto the subject of school, and three of the women at the table were teachers. As the conversation unfolded, I was surprised to realize that the difference between me and these teachers was not so much where we teach (they at public school, I at home), but our foundational approach to learning. The teachers were concerned that students learn "important" things like sitting still in a seat, raising your hand before you speak, how to ask the right questions, and how to take direction from non-parental authority figures. They laughed about the subjects you have to learn even though "you'll never use them in real life" (subjects like history, higher math, etc.!) and about the funny questions their kids ask, like, "Why does the earth rotate?" (the answer they gave their kids was, "I don't know!" before moving on to another topic). One brave gal carefully admitted that she is still not sure whether she wants to send her child to school or home school him. The looks of restrained alarm on the faces of the teachers was fascinating.

As the conversation evolved (complete with anecdotes about the friend of a friend who home schools her ten children who faced the world like deer in the headlights once they left their parents' home), I began to see that how I view home schooling, and the reasons we're choosing it, is a fundamental values difference that goes beyond what kids learn to the core vision of our job as parents to train and develop our children's character, intellect, and capacities for a rich life that brings God glory as they thrive and fulfill their greatest potential.


Home schooling is not simply doing school at home. It is surrounding your child with an atmosphere of curiosity, creativity, industry, and good habits that stimulates a voracious appetite for free thought, intellectual exploration, unhindered discovery, vibrant spiritual depth, and rich personal maturation. It allows us to concentrate on things the child will need in real life: a quick mind, a healthy body, a desire for obedience, and deep and broad knowledge that will equip him for a life of leadership, service, and sacrifice. Who cares if he knows how to sit still in a seat, regurgitate facts on a test, raise his hand before speaking, and ask the "right" questions? If he understands how to submit his will to God-given authority, he'll never have a problem taking direction from someone other than Mom or Dad. And he'll find that subjects like history and higher-level math will shed profound light on issues he encounters DAILY in real life, unlike the silly skills often emphasized in public schools.

Home schooling is a freedom-saturated approach--from where you learn, to what you learn, to how you learn, to how you measure learning, to how you determine what is valuable. Home schooling recognizes that parents, not the government, are ultimately responsible for their children's lives, and before God have complete freedom, choice, and authority to raise their children. It is this freedom-filled perspective that unnerves Type As, politicians, and liberal elitists, and anyone else who wants more control over our children than they've been given.

Home schooling can be a lifestyle choice; a vision cast; a declaration of independence. It can separate friends or unite them. It can be an unhealthy shield or an ever-flourishing garden. It is to step out of one world and into another.

Damned

"If sinners be damned, at least let them leap to Hell over our bodies. If they will perish, let them perish with our arms about their knees. Let no one go there unwarned and unprayed for."

--C. H. Spurgeon (1834-1892)

Freedom

"'Thou shalt not' is the beginning of wisdom. But the end of wisdom, the new law, is, 'Thou shalt.' To be Christian is to be old? Not a bit of it. To be Christian is to be reborn, and free, and unafraid, and immortally young."

--Joy Davidman, Smoke on the Mountain

don't leave us at peace

"We implore the mercy of God, not that He may leave us at peace in our vices, but that He may deliver us from them."

--Blaise Pascal, Pensees

Law from the heart

"In Romans 7, St. Paul says, 'The law is spiritual.' What does that mean? If the law were physical, then it could be satisfied by works, but since it is spiritual, no one can satisfy it unless everything he does springs from the depths of the heart. But no one can give such a heart except the Spirit of God, who makes the person be like the law, so that he actually conceives a heartfelt longing for the law and henceforward does everything, not through fear or coercion, but from a free heart."

--Martin Luther, "Preface to the Letter of St. Paul to the Romans"

Temptation

"Only he flings himself upward when the pull comes to drag him down, can hope to break the force of temptation. Temptation may be an invitation to hell, but much more it is an opportunity to reach heaven. At the moment of temptation, sin and righteousness are both very near the Christian; but, of the two, the latter is the nearer."

--Charles H. Brent (1862-1929)

Idolatry

"The heart's slavish and dogged devotion to its idol is what fathers of the Church have called 'the bondage of the will.' This bondage becomes most painfully apparent in our lives when we earnestly feel the need of changing but cannot; when we are attracted to another value that for one reason or another conflicts with the desires of our true god--that value nearest and dearest to us. But our true god lies so deeply inside us that often we are not even consciously aware of its presence or of what it actually is."

--Robert L. Short, The Parables of Peanuts

Contentment

"Contentment is not satisfaction. It is the grateful, faithful, fruitful use of what we have, little or much. It is to take the cup of Providence and call upon the name of the Lord. What the cup contains is its contents. To get all that is in the cup is the act and art of contentment. Not to drink because one has but half a cup, or because one does not like its flavor, or because somebody else has silver to one's own glass, is to lose the contents; and that is the penalty, if not the meaning, of discontent. No one is discontented who employs and enjoys to the utmost what he has."

--Maltbie D. Babcock (1858-1901)

Expectations

"Don't reject a blessing because it's packaged differently than you expected."

--Mom

Art & creativity

"A Christian, above all people, should live artistically, aesthetically, and creatively. ...If we have been created in the image of an Artist, then we should look for expressions of artistry, and be sensitive to beauty, responsive to what has been created for our appreciation."

--source unknown

Getting up early

"If you were to rise early every morning, as an instance of self-denial, as a method of renouncing indulgence, as a means of redeeming your time and of fitting your spirit for prayer, you would find mighty advantages from it. This method, though it seem such a small circumstance of life, would in all probability be a means [toward] great piety. It would keep it constantly in your head that softness and idleness were to be avoided and that self-denial was a part of Christianity... It would teach you to exercise power over yourself, and make you able by degrees to renounce other pleasures and tempers that war against the soul."
--William Law, A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life

Nostalgia

A dream of warmer days
When leaves are flushed anew with green
And every moment vibrates--alive
Imagination swells with the breeze
And from a wistful mist emerges,
as from the memory of a dream,
Treehouses
Dragons
Secret caves
Magic
and
Pirates
For a moment
A flutter
remember
the freedom of long summer days
Bare feet
and
the stillness of time.

Hell

"In the long run, the answer to all those who object to the doctrine of hell is...a question: 'What are you asking God to do?' To wipe out their past sins and, at all costs, to give them a fresh start, smoothing every difficulty and offering every miraculous help? But He has done so, on Calvary. To forgive them? They will not be forgiven. To leave them alone? Alas, I am afraid that that is what He does."
--C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

Success

"Success is the sum of small efforts--repeated day in and day out."

Irony from the mouth of an award-winning teacher

"I've come to believe that genius is an exceedingly common human quality, probably natural to most of us... I began to wonder, reluctantly, whether it was possible that being in school itself was what was dumbing them down. Was it possible I had been hired not to enlarge children's power, but to diminish it? That seemed crazy on the face of it, but slowly I began to realize that the bells and the confinement, the crazy sequences, the age-segregation, the lack of privacy, the constant surveillance, and all the rest of national curriculum of schooling were designed exactly as if someone had set out to *prevent* children from learning how to think and act, to coax them into addiction and dependent behavior."
– John Taylor Gatto1992 New York State Teacher of the Year