The positive, the really, really positive, is that I've gotten healthier. My historical patterns and ways of numbing myself against negative emotions or difficult circumstances don't seem to appeal to me any longer. This is a very good thing.
The flip side is that now I get to simply experience them.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
A soothing balm
There are a handful of people in whose company intervening months and years seem to melt away in an instant. Time with these closest friends and family refreshes the soul.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Not nearly enough time
I've been interceding regularly, but haven't had nearly enough quiet time in Your presence. This morning was nice. Thanks, Lord!
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
I can't believe I'm up at this hour. I can certainly believe what has me up. I knew when I watched those two episodes of Criminal Minds a month ago that they were going to stay with me. I dreamed of them, and now my sphincter hurts from involuntarily, unconscious contraction. I'm hoping a few minutes awake will give it a chance to relax so I can sleep again.
While awake, I am praying for Curry and for Joey, two young men who are in very bad way for very different reasons. I hope the defeated feeling I have for them is just the lingering effect of the hopeless dream. I also pray again that God's work in their lives will far exceed the limitations of my faith.
I have to be at work early in the morning. What a night for this. Television has destroyed my night, and I didn't watch a minute of it tonight.
While awake, I am praying for Curry and for Joey, two young men who are in very bad way for very different reasons. I hope the defeated feeling I have for them is just the lingering effect of the hopeless dream. I also pray again that God's work in their lives will far exceed the limitations of my faith.
I have to be at work early in the morning. What a night for this. Television has destroyed my night, and I didn't watch a minute of it tonight.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Man on Wire
I'm going to have to see this documentary.
It's connected to a very intense time for me. In August of 1974, my mom, sister, and I were visiting my dad's family in Kansas. He hadn't joined us, as he'd burned up most of his vacation recovering from Monday mornings after. He'd given over much of his life to his alcoholism again, after a brief respite following an accident which had robbed him of the use of one eye. The resulting loss of depth perception had left him incapable in the one area in which he still clung to a fading pride, his athletic ability, so the bourbon was the only remaining consolation he could embrace. While we were away, he ended the misery that he considered his life to be. It would be another couple years before I'd learn he'd committed suicide, that his "cerebral hemorrhage" was caused by the rapidly moving 22-caliber slug that he'd jammed into a chamber because mom had removed the clips from his guns. I imagine she'd probably taken the boxes of ammo away, too, but must've missed a bullet somewhere.
So that's the emotional context into which this unusual event fits for me. I have a vague feeling that we were back home when this extremely high-wire "crime" made the news, but I can't recall the exact date of dad's death - I suppose I have a memorial prayer card around here somewhere, which he would have hated; I never heard this hopeless man allow for any possibility of the existence of God - so I don't remember for sure where I was. Now I'm probably going to be looking up other news events of that month, though.
This is the second time this year that a news event from the time of one of my parents' deaths has been recalled to my attention. Maybe this happens to other people all the time, but it's very unusual for me.
It's connected to a very intense time for me. In August of 1974, my mom, sister, and I were visiting my dad's family in Kansas. He hadn't joined us, as he'd burned up most of his vacation recovering from Monday mornings after. He'd given over much of his life to his alcoholism again, after a brief respite following an accident which had robbed him of the use of one eye. The resulting loss of depth perception had left him incapable in the one area in which he still clung to a fading pride, his athletic ability, so the bourbon was the only remaining consolation he could embrace. While we were away, he ended the misery that he considered his life to be. It would be another couple years before I'd learn he'd committed suicide, that his "cerebral hemorrhage" was caused by the rapidly moving 22-caliber slug that he'd jammed into a chamber because mom had removed the clips from his guns. I imagine she'd probably taken the boxes of ammo away, too, but must've missed a bullet somewhere.
So that's the emotional context into which this unusual event fits for me. I have a vague feeling that we were back home when this extremely high-wire "crime" made the news, but I can't recall the exact date of dad's death - I suppose I have a memorial prayer card around here somewhere, which he would have hated; I never heard this hopeless man allow for any possibility of the existence of God - so I don't remember for sure where I was. Now I'm probably going to be looking up other news events of that month, though.
This is the second time this year that a news event from the time of one of my parents' deaths has been recalled to my attention. Maybe this happens to other people all the time, but it's very unusual for me.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Timely reminders
What a wonderful marriage encounter circle meeting last night. I think we really needed that. We've gotten complacent about the things we agreed were important, and when we do I find my self-talk grows largely negative. Nurturing our relationship is so important, especially when so little of our life together just flows naturally together. We're such different people, and that is a good thing as long as we're channeling ourselves into our relationship together. When we're not, our tendency is to each drift in different directions.
Last night reminded me once again that this isn't a problem unique to us, nor is it especially difficult to address with just a bit of attention to where we're going. And the specific dialogue question was a great reminder of the relationship foundations on which we've built this house.
This spring, when we learned we had termites, we addressed the problem decisively. We didn't spend a lot of time agonizing over what was wrong, or how we wished this or that was different. We just took the action we needed to free our house from this threat. That's a good metaphor.
Timely, too, was last night's reminder that I need to have my attention and effort fixed on the things under my control. I've observed time after time that a marriage gets in trouble when each person focuses on what they think is wrong with the other, rather than when I simply hone in on how to best love my wife today. There's no point in scolding myself too severely for starting to forget about that. Let me just instead love my bride for the wonderful person she is.
Last night reminded me once again that this isn't a problem unique to us, nor is it especially difficult to address with just a bit of attention to where we're going. And the specific dialogue question was a great reminder of the relationship foundations on which we've built this house.
This spring, when we learned we had termites, we addressed the problem decisively. We didn't spend a lot of time agonizing over what was wrong, or how we wished this or that was different. We just took the action we needed to free our house from this threat. That's a good metaphor.
Timely, too, was last night's reminder that I need to have my attention and effort fixed on the things under my control. I've observed time after time that a marriage gets in trouble when each person focuses on what they think is wrong with the other, rather than when I simply hone in on how to best love my wife today. There's no point in scolding myself too severely for starting to forget about that. Let me just instead love my bride for the wonderful person she is.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Reason to hope
I find I need to remind myself of reasons to hope for Anson.
I see statuses that remind me so much of things that Teri's parents, and even my mom, went through at the end of their lives. But there are major differences between them: Teri's mom and dad were elderly, and their bodies were wracked by cancer and by infection; my mom's organs were ravaged by infection as well. Their bodies had all been weakened severely in the first place, before they reached their end-of-life condition. Anson, on the other hand, while he experienced a severe trauma, was an otherwise strong, healthy young man. His body is trying to recover from one event - though it may have multiple implications, that isn't the same as having multiple, sequential, and long term issues, or having an underlying sickness that the body is already fighting off.
Of course, the greatest reason to hope is that we have entrusted his care to our loving God.
I see statuses that remind me so much of things that Teri's parents, and even my mom, went through at the end of their lives. But there are major differences between them: Teri's mom and dad were elderly, and their bodies were wracked by cancer and by infection; my mom's organs were ravaged by infection as well. Their bodies had all been weakened severely in the first place, before they reached their end-of-life condition. Anson, on the other hand, while he experienced a severe trauma, was an otherwise strong, healthy young man. His body is trying to recover from one event - though it may have multiple implications, that isn't the same as having multiple, sequential, and long term issues, or having an underlying sickness that the body is already fighting off.
Of course, the greatest reason to hope is that we have entrusted his care to our loving God.
A professional musing, and more
I think it's painful to watch someone doing something they don't enjoy. I think that Tiger Woods has never enjoyed golfing; what he enjoys is the affirmation he receives from being so good at it.
This may seem apropos of nothing, but I find myself asking whether something similar is true of me, professionally, right now. Unlike Tiger, I haven't made enough money to retire in comfort if I want to right now. But like him, I'm not enjoying what I'm doing, and even with regard to the times I did I find myself wondering how much of it has always been about the affirmation I've received from doing it well.
I should probably not spend much time considering how much other areas of my life may suffer from that same dynamic.
This may seem apropos of nothing, but I find myself asking whether something similar is true of me, professionally, right now. Unlike Tiger, I haven't made enough money to retire in comfort if I want to right now. But like him, I'm not enjoying what I'm doing, and even with regard to the times I did I find myself wondering how much of it has always been about the affirmation I've received from doing it well.
I should probably not spend much time considering how much other areas of my life may suffer from that same dynamic.
Tuesday, August 09, 2011
"Without self indulgence"
I used that phrase a couple posts ago, and it's time to come back to it in more detail.
Self indulgence can take a lot of forms. It most commonly refers to our reckless abandon in making choices that fill some desire, or even a legitimate need, at the expense of the people around them. The rake who refuses to observe any need for fidelity in his relationships, for instance, indulges his perceived lack without true regard for either the feelings of the other people in his life or the growth he can only experience by making different choices. Materialists may indulge their desires for technology or other goods, rather than using their resources in ways that really reflect good stewardship. We can, well I have in the past, been emotionally self-indulgent,when my need for emotional closeness seemed more important to me than the message I was sending to my bride about her worth as a person and a partner. I could write at self-flagellating length about that one, or author page upon page of other examples of self indulgence in other areas of life, either of which would probably be self indulgent!
Even as we exercise restraint in our behavior we can indulgently feel proud of ourselves for having put others ahead of our own wishes, and nurture in ourselves an inner sense of others' indebtedness to us as a result. I can think of myself as some sort of martyr because I've chosen to deny some aspect of my self that I might value. This form of self-indulgence, can be just as dangerous, just as damaging to my relationships as if I'd chosen in the first place the form of indulging myself that I allow myself to become inflated over.
There's another way of self-indulging, too: I can feel entitled my opinion myself. We can indulge our own right to be who we think ourselves to be. I've struggled with that, and it's a hard one to let go of. The guise of holding ourselves to a high standard of behavior can be an odd sort of ego indulgence, even or especially when we've failed to meet it.
The idea of all this reflection is not to get wrapped introspectively into the many ways we might fail to simply live selflessly, but to simply be aware that there are pitfalls to watch out for as we try to live simply, without indulging ourselves.
Self indulgence can take a lot of forms. It most commonly refers to our reckless abandon in making choices that fill some desire, or even a legitimate need, at the expense of the people around them. The rake who refuses to observe any need for fidelity in his relationships, for instance, indulges his perceived lack without true regard for either the feelings of the other people in his life or the growth he can only experience by making different choices. Materialists may indulge their desires for technology or other goods, rather than using their resources in ways that really reflect good stewardship. We can, well I have in the past, been emotionally self-indulgent,when my need for emotional closeness seemed more important to me than the message I was sending to my bride about her worth as a person and a partner. I could write at self-flagellating length about that one, or author page upon page of other examples of self indulgence in other areas of life, either of which would probably be self indulgent!
Even as we exercise restraint in our behavior we can indulgently feel proud of ourselves for having put others ahead of our own wishes, and nurture in ourselves an inner sense of others' indebtedness to us as a result. I can think of myself as some sort of martyr because I've chosen to deny some aspect of my self that I might value. This form of self-indulgence, can be just as dangerous, just as damaging to my relationships as if I'd chosen in the first place the form of indulging myself that I allow myself to become inflated over.
There's another way of self-indulging, too: I can feel entitled my opinion myself. We can indulge our own right to be who we think ourselves to be. I've struggled with that, and it's a hard one to let go of. The guise of holding ourselves to a high standard of behavior can be an odd sort of ego indulgence, even or especially when we've failed to meet it.
The idea of all this reflection is not to get wrapped introspectively into the many ways we might fail to simply live selflessly, but to simply be aware that there are pitfalls to watch out for as we try to live simply, without indulging ourselves.
Monday, August 08, 2011
Aftermath of an attack
I've always had a nebulous understanding that one of the toughest things for a soldier to deal with must be the death or serious injury of a close friend in combat. I imagine them being racked by questions: Did I do anything wrong? Was there anything I could've done differently to prevent it? Why was it him (or her) instead of me?
It has always been a distant concept, though, until now. My son-in-law could very well be dealing with these questions, and many more that I've never had to consider.
Here's the thing: we can kill ourselves agonizing over the "what ifs" that surround any particular set of circumstances. Yes, if you actually screwed up and someone was hurt or has died as a result this is a lot harder. Decent people have a hard time accepting forgiveness for their fallibility in the face of someone else being hurt by our errors, even if the lapse was understandable rather than a case of actual negligence (or worse). It seems that we have a harder time accepting mercy ourselves, even when we don't deserve condemnation, than we do in meting it out to others.
Beyond that, we sometimes forget that every set of circumstances is different. We're trained to do certain things, to obey instructions (orders) or perform our duties in a certain way, because those are the actions that are anticipated to bring the best results the majority of the time. A good manager avoids managing by exception except in circumstances under which the exceptions must be managed, but the exceptions that creep through rarely have life or death implications, and the manager can usually sleep well at night knowing that she did the best she could. When a soldier encounters an exception, or thinks he might have, people with whom he's trusted his life could lose theirs, and a devastated family is left to deal with the aftermath. This might leave him agonizing over what he should have done differently, even when he has done exactly what he was supposed to do.
Everyone around us will suffer if we fail to find a healthy balance between diligently doing the best we can and cutting ourselves some slack for the results once we've done so.
It has always been a distant concept, though, until now. My son-in-law could very well be dealing with these questions, and many more that I've never had to consider.
Here's the thing: we can kill ourselves agonizing over the "what ifs" that surround any particular set of circumstances. Yes, if you actually screwed up and someone was hurt or has died as a result this is a lot harder. Decent people have a hard time accepting forgiveness for their fallibility in the face of someone else being hurt by our errors, even if the lapse was understandable rather than a case of actual negligence (or worse). It seems that we have a harder time accepting mercy ourselves, even when we don't deserve condemnation, than we do in meting it out to others.
Beyond that, we sometimes forget that every set of circumstances is different. We're trained to do certain things, to obey instructions (orders) or perform our duties in a certain way, because those are the actions that are anticipated to bring the best results the majority of the time. A good manager avoids managing by exception except in circumstances under which the exceptions must be managed, but the exceptions that creep through rarely have life or death implications, and the manager can usually sleep well at night knowing that she did the best she could. When a soldier encounters an exception, or thinks he might have, people with whom he's trusted his life could lose theirs, and a devastated family is left to deal with the aftermath. This might leave him agonizing over what he should have done differently, even when he has done exactly what he was supposed to do.
Everyone around us will suffer if we fail to find a healthy balance between diligently doing the best we can and cutting ourselves some slack for the results once we've done so.
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