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BLOG ARCHIVES My Sister Has Died by Jim Robinson Posted September 2, 2008 Her name was--is--Mary Jennifer Robinson Turner. She died in  the same way our mother died, of a drug overdose, and at nearly the same age. All of us who loved and truly knew her had been expecting it, in a way, for many years. That's the way of things, when the person you love is an addict; you pray for them, and sometimes try to convince them to get help, but mostly all that does is make you feel just as crazy as they are. So you keep praying, asking and hoping for a miracle, because you know that even though the situation seems hopeless... well, you've seen miracles happen before, maybe even to you. We must have faith. Because if God has created miracles in our own lives, miracles far beyond what we deserve... well, surely He will reach down and save someone else, someone far more pure and decent and childlike in heart than we ever were or will ever be. Miracles do happen. So we keep praying.
When Jennifer and I were little kids, we did what brothers and sisters usually do. We played together, fought, and made up, and played together again as if we'd never been angry. Jennifer was the baby, three years younger than me. She and I clung to one another when bad things happened in our house. When it began to feel dangerous we'd sometimes hide together. And when things were quiet, we played a lot of make-believe. I guess all of us played a lot of make believe back then. Back when there was a lot more fear than faith.
When she was very young Jennifer was sweet and round-faced and beautiful. She had blonde hair and eyes the color of a perfect sky. I would sometimes tease her about her chubby cheeks, and one time I got mad at her and called her "hippo girl." She adored me, I know now, and when I called her that name her face grew white with shame.
I would give anything--anything at all--if I could go back to that place in time and take back those words. I wouldn't call her "hippo girl." I would tell her she was as beautiful as any princess in any fairy tale. I would tell her that when she smiled, something like soft innocence would fall all around everyone in the room like spring rain. I would tell her not to be afraid, that this time I would do a better job of protecting her. I would look into those amazing azure eyes and tell her that sweet spirits like hers should never have to see violence or endure betrayal, and I would pray with her now like I could not then that she would choose all the things in life ahead that were as beautiful and graceful as she. I would beg her to always remain as she was then, sweet and gentle and kind. I would hold her for as long as she wanted.
"What's wrong with Momma?" my little sister asked one day, as if she had just been made aware of some long-hidden secret. She had ducked into my room for sanctuary. It was at times like this when I loved my little sister the most... and yet felt most helpless. Jennifer had always been the gentlest one, soft in spirit, easy to make smile or to hurt, and lonely somehow. I wanted desperately to protect her, but could not.
"Nothing," I muttered, and tried to ignore everything. I just went on about whatever I was doing, pretending, fantasizing... Nothing's happening, nothing's wrong, just leave it alone. As a family we had stopped talking very much by then. How desperately we needed each other, and how hard we tried to pretend that we didn't. And I can still see Jennifer's face, looking up at me, waiting for answers I could not give then, and in many ways cannot give now.
Being the youngest, Jennifer was the last child to graduate high school and leave home, and so not only had to experience the worst times of dysfunction in our house but also had to do so more or less alone. Our older sister Joette had married; I'd run as far away as possible, into my own selfishness, my own fear and shame. I only wanted to escape.
I won't go into what exactly happened to our mother, or, years later, to me, and to my sister. More often than not I see only dusty, empty rooms when I search back where my mind sometimes wanders but rarely lingers. I believe in things like psychosis and endogenous depression and addiction and bipolar disorder. I can spout technical jargon to describe some things science understands and some things it does not. But all that can't completely explain how people sometimes become lost to themselves and lost to the rest of us.
I believe in unseen darkness and demons, too, and on any given day, depending on how my own neurotransmitters happen to be firing or misfiring, I'm not at all sure where one leaves off and the other takes up. After so many years in my own recovery, sometimes all I can cling to is a knowing deep within me that God exists, that there is a world beyond what we can see and touch and feel, and that within that world evil exists, too. And I believe that for some of us in obvious ways and probably all of us in more subtle ways the disease exists and makes its home in more than just our flesh, and medicine alone rarely cures us. When all my training fails me, all I really know for sure is that being truly well goes to a place within far deeper than the mere molecules that make us up. And I know that, for whatever reasons, our mother, me, my sister, began to fall away, isolated, staring out our own internal windows at intruding gray. Mourning something lost that none of us could find.
And so I longed to but could not rescue both mother and my sister. I should have known better, of course; I counsel people all the time about it, telling them to let go, to hand over their loved ones to the only One who ever saves any of us, finally, if we're to be saved at all. But it's just so hard. So hard when it's someone we love....
The truth is, I have wondered in recent days if I could continue the fight. I have felt if not beaten, at least emptied. I have felt, honestly, that I can hardly help myself any more, much less those people who come every day for my counsel. Tired. Hollow. I can't listen to any more pain. I can't walk another step in the darkness.
Still, my heart longs, and reaches out. This time....
This time, when this merciless disease has stolen yet another loved one from my life, some thirty years since our mother's death, something has been different. This time, by God's grace, I have not struggled as much in my soul with the crushing feelings of guilt and self-blame. This time, through Christ Jesus, I have looked into a lifeless face and seen both tragedy and great beauty, where three decades ago I saw only loss. This time, when lightly brushing my fingertips against a cold, colorless cheek, I have through miraculous transformation--both Jennifer's and mine--felt the overpowering truth that crushes death with nothing less than eternal life. Not an end, but a beginning. Not fear, but faith.
If the child in us is to reach beyond our brokenness and find our Father, we will have to rely on that most incomprehensible gift we have named but never mastered. Both beyond us and yet within us is this thing called faith. A willingness to call out His name from our own dark side of the road... wherever we are, no matter how far from home... He touches us with a love that is at once elusive and essential, impossible to comprehend yet only an embrace away.
Faith.
That God is in the rain, the pain, the loving and losing, the hurt and healing, the sun and the storm. Faith when the God of all giving inexplicably takes away. Faith that He longs to kiss the face of both angel and addict. Faith against all reason that He is with us when we feel so helplessly alone. Faith that no matter how many times we turn our backs on Him, He is forever facing us.
Goodbye for now, Jennifer.
I'll miss you.
But I'll see you soon.
Donna Collins Tinsley This was one of the most awesome, painful, yet encouraging stories I have ever read, about the reality of what happens to families of addicts.Those of us who have loved ones that continue in the downward spiral and hell of not only drugs, alcohol and genetic predispositions to addictive behaviors also suffer. Little children suffer and then like Jennifer sometimes model what they have seen. Thank God, through Jesus we have hope. The last paragraph was such a touching display of the power of words to heal a human heart. Faith. That God is in the rain, the pain, the loving and losing, the hurt and healing, the sun and the storm. Faith when the God of all giving inexplicably takes away. Faith that He longs to kiss the face of both angel and addict. Faith against all reason that He is with us when we feel so helplessly alone. Faith that no matter how many times we turn our backs on Him, He is forever facing us. May we all learn to have that kind of faith. Many blessings, dear brother and write on. We need you Adele Hooker: Oh, how I would loved to help the sad world of druggers. I pray for them every single night in my solitary quiet time. I wish I could send that man my books; PRAYER AND OTHER GOD STUFF and HOW TO FIND GOD IN EVERYDAY LIVING I'm a computer idiot. I don't know how to do anything but write stuff and send and email, Love, Joy and Peace Fred: I can't speak. Your article--your grief--touches me too deeply. I can only weep. Can We Survive? by Stanley Baldwin, Posted August 12, 2008 A recent TV ad for an "extreme fighting" pay-per-view program promised viewers a 99% chance of seeing combatants suffer serious injuries, including some of the career-ending variety. Subscribers would see blood and the combatants in obvious pain.
"Extreme fighting" is legal and acceptable, but treating animals the same way is a criminal offense. That defies all logic. Last year, professional football star Michael Vick facilitated fights between pit bulls. Some of the fights were "career-ending." Badly injured dogs were brutally killed afterward. For the crime of dog fighting, Michael Vick lost his job as quarterback of the Atlanta Falcons, lost his lucrative endorsements and his reputation, and is now serving a 23-month prison sentence in Leavenworth.
We live in a society that considers dog fighting a cruel, senseless, and illegal blood sport, but televised mayhem among humans is high-priced entertainment.
Meanwhile, the major networks offer shows that get progressively more graphic and brutal. Popular series such as CSI and NCIS feature crude, revolting, and disgusting gore. Maggots crawl out of human faces. Burial crypts burst explosively and shower investigators with liquefied human remains.
In the Roman empire, a debased citizenry entertained itself by watching defenseless Christians fight with lions in the Coliseum. How much more debasement can our society endure before we equal their decadence? How soon will our civilization disintegrate as theirs did?
The answer to that question depends on our making some sensible choices. As Edmund Burke famously wrote more than 200 years ago: "Those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it."
History's lessons are clear enough for those willing to learn them. Not only Rome but also the preceding great civilizations perished from their own depravity. The prophet Zechariah told Israel: "This is what the Lord Almighty says, 'Administer true justice, show mercy and compassion to one another.'" But Israel refused to pay attention; stubbornly turned their backs and stopped up their ears. "They made their hearts as hard as flint and would not listen. This is how they made the pleasant land desolate" (Zechariah 7: 9-14).
A future generation well might say of us, "With cruelty and injustice and wretched excess and violence and hard-hearted indifference to human suffering-this is how they made the pleasant land desolate."
Whether our civilization will survive, and how much longer we have, God only knows. It's easy to shake our heads in dismay but then shrug and accept ever-declining public morals. After all what can we as individuals do about it?
For starters we can turn off the offensive TV shows. Producers of graphic violence argue, with some validity, that they are simply giving the public what it wants. If the public would not embrace such trash, it would soon disappear. The same may be said for depraved video games and movies.
Just over 40 years ago, before an assassin's bullet struck him down on June 6, 1968, Robert F. Kennedy called us to a better way. "Few will have the greatness" he said, "to bend history itself; but each of us can work to change a small portion of events, and in the total of all those acts will be written the history of this generation."
Today, the last of the Kennedy generation is fast fading from the scene. Most of that generation's history has already been written, and it's not always pleasant reading. But the final chapters can still tell a new and different story. Meanwhile, the emerging generation is showing signs of an idealism we have not seen since the Kennedy years. In the last choices of an older generation and in the rising idealism of a new one lies hope, for each of us indeed can "change a small portion of events." We have the power. Dr. Vincent Kituku: May God bless you and provide the strength you need to keep doing what He has put in your heart! Your ability to put things, spiritual or social, in perspective is refreshing. I have questioned the attention given by the media to a deer killed by a car and that given when a woman is abused by a man. I have witnessed dozens of dogs and cats adopted within hours while an abused child may never be taken to a home with security for his or her development. Please continue with this great vision. Karl: You probably are not going to like what I have to say on this subject so let's see if you consider it too "inappropriate" to print. Making a lot of noise about bad TV, movies, etc. is a colossal waste of time or worse, actually counter-productive. You probably just recruited a new batch of viewers for CSI and NCIS. I get mailings from some TV watchdog organization all the time. They detail how bad (sexy) certain shows are and describe them in graphic detail. The maiilings are pornographic themselves. I admit, I checked the listings but couldn't find the bad stuff. Otherwise, I'd probably have had to watch, just in the interests of "informing" myself about how bad they are, you understand. Saving a Generation by The Dolphin General, Posted August 12, 2008 I'm excited. Great numbers of young people have rallied to the banner of Barack Obama. Regardless of whether or not he will be or ought to be the next president of the United States, their enthusiasm and willingness to be involved in matters beyond the trivial gives me hope for the future of the humans.
I heard of a couple of human adolescents who had a fascinating conversation. One had made a demeaning remark about a classmate. The other responded, "You know, we can't be the ones who rise above all the meanness unless we start right now." Those young people had been touched by the SPCH message through a trusted adult. When I heard of that, I thought, How can SPCH instill the same vision and response in young humans broadly? At this point it's only a dream but I have an idea. Adolescent humans look up to those who are just a few years older than themselves. Old enough to be their role models but young enough to be cool. A cadre of college age young people could make a huge impact on high schoolers. What a great service they could render! But how to make it happen? Clubs that meet in or after school? Assembly speakers? Speakers to visit church youth groups? If a cadre of youthful speakers were organized, I know what we could call them. SPCHmakers. Get it. They would make speeches and make SPCHers in the process. Or is that idea corny? Hey, I'm only a dolphin. You tell me whether any of this makes sense.
Jeanne Halsey: How to reach the emerging generation? I have a 15-year-old grandson who is a whiz at the Internet - what kid isn't these days? He blogs, he reads other people's blogs, he communicates with friends in Scotland and India and right next door too. Fads, slogans, hot new songs, attitudes about everything from who's going to win the Presidential Election, to how to be cool but still green, to what is the best movie so far this year - these are the things that young people learn from the Internet ... things that sweep around the world as fast as a satellite can absorb and then broadcast. Does he want to know the definition of "altruism"? He can pull up the definition from an Internet dictionary faster than I can explain it in person. Does he want to know who won the Best Actor Oscar in 2002? imdb.com can tell him that, plus the previous recipients for the past 50 years, all in the blink of an eye. Do we have a voice to the next generation? Yes, but we have to put it in the right place ... and I recommend a SPCH blog just for them. Find someone (a youth pastor?) who speaks their language (but we hope in full sentences and fully realized words, not those head-shaking abbreviations!). Our kids aren't as hard-hearted as they'd like us to believe; they really do understand "pay it forward" acts of kindness. Darrell: How about SPCH leadership visiting Christian colleges to recruit volunteers who would work with the younger set? I don't know how it is now, but in my day--the50s and 60s--students were looking for Christian service opportunities, and the colleges actively encouraged them in it. I believe some colleges even required it. "Do As I Say, Stupid!" by Stanley Baldwin, Posted July 23, 2008 (Comments follow) Stepping on toes fails as a method of helping people shape up.
When we impose our will on others to control their behavior (and sometimes we can), we violate their personal autonomy and freedom. We can tread on people's toes and sometimes it will make them move, but we can't build civilization on incivility.
Such incivility takes many forms. Radio talk personality Dr. Laura regularly abuses those who call in to her program. She talks down to them, derides them, and generally treats them like a bad parent treats children.
Still they call, so some listeners argue that those callers must need her tough talk. It's true that they are at fault as surely as she is. She is stepping on their toes and they are jumping up to say, "Yes, Doctor!" instead of dismissing her in disgust as her behavior warrants.
Obviously, people who meekly accept abusive treatment are running their self-respect fuel tank on empty. So empty that they lack any proper sense of their intrinsic worth. The tragedy is that they are not going to get any help for their underlying problem from Dr. Laura. They may try to do as she says and alter their behavior on some points, but their sense of worthlessness is only aggravated. Her treatment of them says they are thoroughly unable to manage their lives and deserve only contempt.
Some say that Dr. Laura should be appreciated for defending traditional values, but that misses my point. Her behavior alienates me even when she supports my values because she offends my sense of civility and fair play.
Gretchen:
I agreed with you about Dr. Laura. Isn't it a scream ... why people call into her!? If I had a problem to discuss with her ... no matter what it was ... she would chew me up! I just finished your book! Great job! Really, I enjoyed reading every chapter. Thank you for writing it! You shouldn't stop now. I am a pretty peaceful, kind and loving person ... but I was inspired to be much more. I hate to see injustice and evil abound ... cruel people keep on being cruel ... but I really can only change myself and try to let kindness and dignity for others abound. I will share this book with my kids. One of our sons is a staunch Liberal and we respect him totally. We are more conservative, but I do hate to hear many conservatives lash out at the liberals with self-righteousness. I just won't listen to them. Kristen Ingram:
Dr. Laura offers no grace. And when we abuse others by controlling them, with harsh treatment or even with sweet words and a velvet glove, that abuse doesn't just hurt the other person. We hurt ourselves that way, and make ourselves ugly inside. EyeZopen: Wow! Kristen said a mouthfull in her three short sentences, I generally agree with what Stanley wrote originally, though I worry a bit that it may come off as an attack on Dr. Laura. I don't really think it is. Being nice and kind, as Stanley constantly urges, doesn't mean being spineless and having no convictions or being afraid to express them. Kristen's comment ought to be in big block letters and flahing neon lights. Jane Lamunyon: I agree, that in all things we should be nicer, and that Dr. Laura does sometimes come off as harsh. However, when a woman calls in and tells her she's living with a guy, and can't understand why he doesn't say "I love you," Dr. Laura, in her brusque way, tells her she's a paid whore. Now, that IS tough, yet in a way true. Sometimes you have to shake people up so that they'll see the truth, and do something about it. It's like taking off the blinders, or telling someone to wake up so they can stop dreaming. I think Dr. Laura really wants to help. Maybe she's sick and tired of whining people who insist on having their own way going to destruction. ... Just a thought. Mack: My take on Dr.Laura is that she's like some insufferable ex-smokers. You would think ex-smokers would feel some empathy for people still indulging in the habit, but some, to the contrary, treat them like inferiors, making snide remarks or lecturing or ridiculing them. Maybe since Dr. Laura has taken the "path of righteousness," in contrast to when she once posed for pornographic nude photos, she thinks she is better than others. It's a trait I doubt she would demonstrate if she was a saved-by-grace Christian. Final Descent by Bay-Isle Fischer, Posted July 10, 2008 (comments follow) In 1993 my husband and I were in Oklahoma on our way to do mission work in Belize when I ended up in a hospital in San Antonio, Texas having pancreatic cancer surgery. The doctors said I probably had six months to a year to live. I had just turned 43 and had the Lord's mission call in my heart--no time to die. I talked to God about Hezekiah asking for fifteen more years and Corrie ten Boom asking for ten. I didn't know what to ask for, but fifteen sounded fair to me at my age.
Here I sit, fifteen years later and the anniversary of that surgery is fast approaching. My husband died two years ago, and now the whisper in my heart is, "Prepare to come home."
How does one prepare to go home? For me the Holy Spirit moved in as a teacher, counselor and comforter. The scriptures, the Words of God, became like living beings. As they wooed me I found myself eager to let go of the things of this world.
The Lord has a plan and a purpose for me in eternity. All that I have set aside or tossed, the wisdom I have gained--the Lord will use all these things to work together according to His purpose. Jesus said our rewards wait for us in heaven.
I am expendable on earth. I'm not leaving my post, I am being obedient. My Lord has given me orders, "Prepare to come home".
I have done the necessary details, tying up the loose ends of this world's agenda. Now I rest, trusting God to unfold His map for this final journey into the heavenlies.
Oh, there is physical pain and emotional heartbreaks. I don't make light of the matter. But as Paul said (2 Cor.4:17,18), our light momentary troubles are far outweighed by the eternal glory waiting for us.
I've learned that all the truths I've heard spoken--love more, be angry less; give more and worry less--all those things I have heard are so true and I took them too lightly. I can't say anything new that hasn't been said. I can only say now, "I get it and they were right."
"Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord"
:o) Bay-Isle
Sue Peel: Dearest Bay-Isle, Our Lord said "Lo, I AM with you, even unto the end of the world." He also said that He's prepared a place for you. We will miss you when this world ends for you and you go to His awesome place for you. Knowing that you will continue to serve Him well in the life that is to come, I rejoice with you for the work that He will soon set your hands to. Thank you for the influence you have been to so many, including myself. Until we meet again! Ann S: Dear Bay-Isle, Although we've never met, I wanted to write and tell you how much I appreciated and was challenged by your comments as you said "Good by" to your writing friends. Your words were a good reminder about the shortness of life, the importance of the eternal, and the priorities of life. Thanks for taking the time to share. By the way, I like your name! Lindyb: Dear Bay-Isle: Your words are filled with hope, peace and life. Your heart is filled with a solid knowledge that while our human form grows weary and wears out, our true being is lifted higher and is destined for a a much brighter, life-filled, hopeful, blessed and miraculous place. The grace with which you express your heart and destiny in God's loving embrace inspires us all, for we are all in line, waiting for the day we too will go home. Your beautiful prose reminds me it is time for us all to prepare, and use whatever days on the calendar we have before us to first of all love and be loved by our Creator and secondly, to do His will. I am newly inspired to honor time and the lives of all around me thanks to your brave expression of faith and purpose. God bless you, dear Bay-Isle. Our love and prayers surround you as surely as our Papa's grace and loving arms. Love in Christ, Denise Spooner: Hi Bay-Isle~ I just wanted to thank you for sharing your heart in this article regarding going home. I, too, have some health issues that unless God heals me, will bring me home sooner than expected. I have congestive heart failure and just turned 44 in March. It is wonderful to know you know where you are going to spend eternity. I am praying God will give you a peace about your final destination home and comfort you like never before. You will remain in my prayers Bay-Isle and I will think of you often. May God bless you and bring you home in peace and quiet, stillness of heart and a calm and rested soul may you leave this earth with. I may see you soon myself. :) Eternal Blessings sylvied: You are being given a brave spirit. I like the words to old hymns. The one that came to me when I read your message was "Onward Christian Soldiers " because I like the line -- "with the cross of Jesus going on before ". I will pray for you . Debbie: What a wonderful story to hear right now! My mother-in-law was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer last July. In her treatment, she decided on only low level chemo (not enough to get nauseous!) and to be grateful to God for every blessing every day. She and Dad are arriving by train next week to visit us! Her last PET scan showed no growth! We just praise God that she is coming! I hope to share your story with her while she's here. Thank you for a timely blessing to pass on! May God's great mercies enfold you. Mary Hake: Dear Bay-Isle, I got to know you when we were roommates at an OCW summer conference in Salem. I appreciate what you shared here and your great attitude. You're an inspiration. God bless you! Malsawmi Jacob: It's so beautiful, so touching to read Bay-Isle's message. (My eyes fill with tears as i write this). She has suffered much, yet her words are so comforting and encouraging. May she have a quiet, peaceful flight to the arms of her Lord where she will have eternal joy without the pains. Adele Hooker: Dear Bay-Isle, What a big spirit you have! God bless you for showing us the right way to walk the path to eternal glory. I get eager at times to do it too. "My eyes have seen the beauty and the glory of our God and my heart now longs to known the deeper wonders of his love." I want to look into the face of my dearly beloved Lord Jesus and also hug those I have loved over my 87 years. And I want to dance on the fleecy white clouds with the angels. Dance on the clouds with them just once for me, will you? Thanks more than words can say. K: My dearest Bay~ My sister, my friend, my teacher, mentor...I so cherish the time our Lord has given me to know you. You've helped me to 'tune in' once more to the Lord's words for me, you've interceded for me and mine, and you've shared and listened in the wee hours of the morning. It's too easy for me to stomp my foot and want one more Starbucks with a bite of chocolate...until I think of you dancing with Jesus! I can only imagine...and I can't hold you back from that! But I can hold your hand, and I will hold you in my heart until we meet again in Gloryland, Sister! You know how how I am about friends. Friends for life, and forever. We've just had a shorter beginning to our forever friendship, that's all. Blessings! Lsev: My Dear Friend, Bay. You have written with warmth and truth and brought a message to all of us that rings with strength and courage. But your life has been a message of strength and courage, so conveying this present journey so well is something that has flowed. You have always desired to have your writing speak in such ways and you accomplished that goal. I, too, am reminded of a song. It is from a film about Hercules; the myth of his run and his win but the words are so appropriate for all of us who run our race here on earth. It is called "Go the Distance"."Like a shooting star, I will go the distance. I will search the world, I will face it harms. I don't care how far, I can go the distance.'Til I find my hero's welcome waiting in Your arms." What a wonderful hug awaits you! BeachDanceSong: My dearest friend, Bay-Isle, I read your "farewell speech" with tears flowing from my eyes and a heart full of love for you. The words don't come easily right now but I want you to know that when I think of you, my kindred spirit friend, I think of the word 'constant' - in season and out of season. "...be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a 'crown of life'." REVELATION 2:10b "Precious in the sight of the L-RD is the death of His saints." PSALM 116:15 May you receive from Father G-D, and His Son Yeshua, a 100-fold blessing and return in Heaven for all that you've given out to others here on Earth. It has been a message of love, hope, and acceptance. You have always 'been there' for me through the years - like a tree planted by the waters - giving life and nourishment in the dry seasons and wilderness experiences as well as the good times. It is your unfailing love, wisdom and discernment that you received from the L-RD that you have passed on to others - plus your smile that lights up a room - and the heaven that I've always seen in your eyes. It is those special and unique times, quality more than quantity, that have become a part of me and will ever live in my heart... and then, there is our 'friendship tea parties' - just you, and me, and the L-RD. I will always remember how you signed your emails and cards with "hugs". I send you one back today. I'm sure the L-RD is waiting to give you the biggest one of all - the one you've waited for all these years. The "welcome Home" hug. I'm not good at "goodbye's" - even for a season - and so I will only say "until we meet again". You will take a part of my heart with you to Heaven. And, when it is my turn for the "golden bells of heaven" and they cry out my name to "come" - after I go running into the arms of Yeshua - please look for me - for I'll be looking for you. And, we will gather around the biggest 'tea party' ever given - the marriage supper of The Lamb. Final descent? -or- Final ascent? We decend in order to ascend - just like our Messiah, Yeshua. I have been truly honored that you've called me 'friend' in this life. My love, heart, and prayers, go with you as you begin your spirit life "on the other side" - in Heaven. I have loved you dearly, more dearly than the spoken word can ever tell. G-D be with you, my friend... until we meet again. Marcia: I copied these words from a devotional I read this week, thinking at the time how appropriate they are for all of us who are looking ahead. (It's by Dan York of First Cause.) "Imagine how awesome that moment in timelessness will be--the Lord will call you from your procumbent position of reverence, to stand! Your Creator will walk you before heaven's hallowed crowd, that cheering throng of fame. You will stand in His glory,blameless. Your heart will feel joy so exponentially powerful as to make those chills that ran down Wow,your spine on earth seem trivial. Never again will you stumble! No more will you know the taste of acerbity (sourness), the reflection of pain, the embarrassment of wrongdoing. Standing in glory before God, He is exalted and you are examined and found clean. Your faith is His credit. Your redemption is His majesty. Your victory over death is His power. Your admittance before His throne is His authority before all time, now, and forever." Jude 24,25-Now to Him who is able to protect you from stumbling and to make you stand in the presence of His glory, blameless and with great joy, to the only God our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, power, and authority before all time, now, and forever. Amen. Jealous? who, me? Bay-Isle Response: To those of you who “blogged” to my SPCH presentation on being prepared to let go of all that separated me from the place Jesus has prepared for me in His Father’s mansion – I am blessed by your words. It was like sitting at my own memorial service, hearing how others saw me.
Paul expressed it well in Philemon verse 7: “Your love has given me great joy and encouragement, because you, brother, have refreshed the hearts of the saints.”
Yes, I’m sure that all who read your comments were encouraged as I was.
I continue to hold fast to Hebrews 11:13: “All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth.”
If my life says nothing more than I lived by faith in Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior, and strived to be obedient to Him, trusting Him in all my ways - Then I lived and I will live on.
Bay-Isle Update-- August 12, 2008: In response to all of the foregoing Bay-Isle writes SPCH to say:
The Lord has used SPCH to bless me and answer my prayers. I felt for years that my writing life was like Samson's life - didn't hit the mark because of other distracting self interests. But the Lord redeemed Samson's life in the end and he was mentioned in Hebrews 11. In Samson's death he accomplished more of the Lord's agenda then at any other time in his life. I sort of feel that is what my SPCH letter has done. I pray it has reminded Christians to stand up and not demand health, but face the Lord for His will and if it be death, than die; letting the world see a Christian has no fear in death, only hope.
I remember many years ago at a Christian conference hearing Barbara Kugle's idea of an Internet newsletter and she called it 'Scribe'. The Internet was new, I wasn't too sure of the idea. Wow - she was right and my pause wasn't. Good old "hindsight", how humbling.
I am so blessed by how the Lord is using me with my following the arrows to the exit sign. I thank you again how you have played a part in that blessing. May you, as well as others be blessed by our Lord, Jesus Christ.
(Readers may still respond to this and other archive blogs by using the form on the Blog page.) Here Comes the Future by Stanley Baldwin, Posted June 25, 2008 Our biggest problems as a country today were generated by bad choices made yesterday. In the same way, our destiny in years to come depends in large part on choices we will make in the next few weeks.
This is no time to act carelessly or in ignorance.
A few cases in point:
The Energy Crisis:
President Jimmy Carter said in 1977--over thirty years ago!--that we needed the moral equivalent of war against the then-emerging energy crisis. The response? People grumbled about 62-cent-a-gallon gas and demanded better mileage from their vehicles, but war? No, it was more like a feeble protest. As a result, today, high fuel prices are having a devastating effect on air travel, our work commutes, and the prices of almost everything we buy. The crisis was totally predictable.
The Economy:
Our economy is in a mess, even without sky-rocketing energy prices. Our government has been recklessly spending huge sums of money it does not have. Too many banks, businesses, and ordinary citizens have been irresponsible in their money management as well. As a result the worst financial crisis in decades is upon us. This crisis was totally predictable.
The War:
A few years ago when the Cold War ended we were promised a "peace dividend," the use of our resources for constructive rather than destructive ends. Then our country went to war in Iraq with little preparation for the chaos and carnage that would follow the defeat of Saddam Hussein. Now our nation is fighting in both Iraq and Afghanistan, our military is stretched to the breaking point, and armed conflict with Iran threatens. We have asked much of our armed forces and little of ourselves.
I'm old enough to remember what war was like when the whole nation shared the burden. No new cars were produced at all for model years 1943-1945, the national speed limit was 35 miles per hour, and everything was rationed, from beans to shoes. We children even shared the burden as candy practically disappeared. Sugar was an import and all our ships were carrying war supplies. How different from now when we endlessly debate whether to scale back the hostilities or ratchet up our military since it for sure hasn't worked trying to fight two wars on the cheap. All of this was predictable, and predicted.
Our Values:
When our nation was attacked on 9/11, we turned to God, but only briefly and superficially. Repentance and prayer soon lost out to a lethal mixture of fear and narcissism. Fear made us compromise our values, and narcissism made us sure we had both the power and the right to do whatever we thought was to our advantage. With hardly a dissenting voice, basic values such as humility lost out to national arrogance. Our leaders thumbed their noses at "Old Europe" and anyone else who questioned us. We were the only remaining superpower on earth and had no need to accommodate our inferiors. Basic morality lost out as Americans resorted to cruelty and torture of our enemies. Now we are mistrusted and disliked around the world as never before. It was all so very predictable. And wrong.
Hindsight is supposed to be 20/20, and 80% of Americans now think the nation is off track. Hindsight, however, is not good enough going forward. We need foresight. And for that we need insight.
In the critical days between now and November elections, many voices will tell us what to think on the crucial issues and choices we face. Too few will help us understand, in a non-partisan way, how to think about those issues. Thus we run the danger of continuing to blunder into the future.
One Source of Insight: Buy My Book
"Snookered" is the title of one chapter in my book, A Funny Thing Happened on My Way To Save Civilization. Along with the rest of the book, this one chapter can help you, in ways you never even imagined, to chart a straight course through the barrage of information and claims coming your way over the next weeks.
Christian leaders endorse the insightfulness of this book:
-- Dr. Clifford Berger (Christian Church) says, "This is truly a book for our times--engaging, humorous, and insightful.
--Rev. Ron Kincaid (Presbyterian Church) says this book is "a must read for anyone who wants to change our culture."
--Rev. Aimee Bruno (Lutheran Church) says the book's "insightful observations . . . hold up a mirror, and help us respond to difficult situations and make the world a better place."
Between now and November, just over four short months, we all have a window of opportunity to do some things right for our country. Get a copy of the book now. Read it while there's still time to make a difference in November. Read it while there's still time to recommend it, as other leaders have, to your friends and family. And if you already have a copy, as many of you do, read it again to refresh your mind.
Dr. Evid Taylor: When I see a batch of endorsements for a book, it has an effect on me the reverse of what the author hoped. I think, Can't this book stand on its own? I must say, however, your book is a happy exception to that pattern. You had me in the first two pages. I found it mainstream and yet radical at the same time. That a book pleading for civility, as yours does, can be called radical only shows how very far our culture has departed from civilized norms. Elijah's Echo: You are exactly right when you say that our turning to God after 9/11 was brief and superficial. And what we need now is repentance and prayer. But I don't hear any serious calls to national repentance. A simple "Day of Prayer" wouldn't do it anyhow. We need real repentance. Mourning and sackcloth and ashes. And it looks like it may take worse than another 9/11 to get us there. Martha: My blog is more about the Dolphin General's article in the same issue as your "Future." I refer to the attorney who said nothing will change in Washington no matter what we do. I don't know if I heard it from somewhere or it's original with me, but I keep thinking: "The way to keep people subjugated is to kill hope." Thanks for what your last two articles (The Wall, Here Comes the Future) do to kindle and nurture hope.
Truth Teller: Your recitation of our national troubles: the energy crisis, the economy, the war, our values is only the beginning of troubles. Our nation is in such a deep hole we may never get out. You reap what you sow, and we face a long season of reaping the bitter fruits of our recent past. THE WALL: Win Against All Odds by Stanley Baldwin, Posted June 7, 2008 The old house was built in the pioneer era and had a cistern in the basement. The cistern was solid concrete. Cast in place with walls from six to eight inches thick, it was the size of a small room. Back in the days before public water systems, it had been used to store precious rainwater, but now it wasted space. Worse yet, seepage still entered, making it a damp, dark, dirty vermin-infested nuisance.
My friend "Carl" had bought the place as a first home for his young family. One day I visited and found Carl down in the basement, sledge hammer in hand, trying to demolish the old cistern. I watched as he swung the sledge hammer against the cistern wall with no apparent effect. He stubbornly stuck with the task, bashing the concrete again and again. Nothing. No cracks appeared. No wisp of dust arose.
"Looks like you're wasting your efforts," I said at last.
"Yes, that's how it looks," said Carl, and he swung the hammer again and yet again, the perspiration standing out on his forehead. Finally, he put the hammer down, wiped his brow, and said, "That's enough for now, let's take a little break before we finish the job."
I hadn't lifted a finger, so I ignored his reference to we. "Finish the job?" I echoed. "You haven't accomplished a thing yet."
"Well," said Carl, "let me explain something about unreinforced concrete to you. Every time I slam that sledge against that wall I weaken it. I create hairline cracks so fine you can't even see them. One of these times--maybe the very next time I hit it--it will break."
Ohhhh-kay, I thought, well, good luck with that! I figured that even if he did eventually break out a chunk, the cistern was so big and strong he'd never be able to demolish it in our lifetimes.
When "we" returned to the task a little later, I was astonished that it took Carl no more than half a dozen well-aimed blows to the same spot to knock a chunk out of the wall. Once the integrity of the wall was breached, almost every successive blow knocked out another chunk. I knew there would soon be little left but a pile of rubble.
I've thought of that concrete wall many times when faced with a daunting task. I think of it now as we in the human family have our own old cistern--an outdated and hardened amalgam of cruelty, abuse, antagonism, hostility, and ill will that poses as normal governmental and public life. For a while now, some of us have aimed seemingly futile blows against this system, while others have stood by and watched dubiously. Or dismissed all such efforts with disdain. Through all of it, the wall of incivility seems to stand as formidable as ever.
But does it?
For those with eyes to see, there are signs that the wall is vulnerable. People are getting fed up with the vermin-attracting nuisance that is wasting space in our collective basement. They want change. Both major candidates for president of the United States are running on change platforms. John McCain and Barack Obama are alike calling for an end to angry partisan bickering. Both promise a new spirit of working with others across the political spectrum to solve the major problems facing our nation.
Promises made by politicians running for office are justifiably viewed with skepticism. Obama and McCain talk reform, but will they deliver? Can they, even if they try?
To succeed, will require three things:
--that determined citizens across the land keep swinging their sledges
--that onlookers drop their dismissive attitudes and join in the work
--that multitudes catch a vision of what a decent and just society looks like
You can make a difference. Every time you show respect instead of disdain for someone with whom you disagree, you bash the wall. Every time you show an open hand instead of a closed fist to those with whom you differ, you bash the wall. Every time you look beyond your own selfish interests to the welfare of others, you bash the wall.
You have power, and together with others of like mind, you can change our nation and the world.
Mr. Citizen, tear down this wall!
Stanley Baldwin is president of Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Humans (SPCH). To comment on this article or to read the comments of others, see below. Julie: As one who agrees wholeheartedly with what SPCH stands for, I'd be interested in what others think could be helpful in drawing onlookers into active participation. What keeps people on the sidelines? What would make them want to join in the work? Tracy: Lack of time and apathy keep us on the sidelines. When we are already pulled in too many directions, it's hard to find time to be deliberately nice to someone else. How many people stop to help someone with a flat tire these days? Partly it's a safety issue in these days when people have been known to deliberately fake a s.o.s. in order to rob others. Partly its time constraints, if I'm on my way to a meeting or an appointment I will be penalized if I do stop to help. What can draw people into active participation? Deliberate kindness. Choosing to sacrifice in order to help others and doing it cheerfully and willingly will bless those you help and inspire others to think about passing it on. I myself like to do nice things and then become frustrated when it doesn't go smoothly like I think it ought to. Like you are being punished for helping. If I could let go of the expectation of easy and just go with what's happening, I'd be a more cheerful attraction for doing right. I do believe that when people see right, they are drawn to it and often want to emulate it. They just want it to be easy and convenient to do so :). Conrad: The "wall" metaphor is powerful, tho like all metaphors it has its limits. Not every obstacle will crumble like unreinforced concrete, no matter how long you beat on it. Still, even if it doesn't, it's better to fail in a noble cause than to succeed in a shabby one. Bible-Thumper Bob: For metaphors, you can't beat the Holy Book. The one I think of here is the barren fig tree.It was cursed because it bore no fruit; it just stood there taking up space, It is not a question of whether we "succeed" or "fail" but whether we are engaged. Rosales: I think it's interesting that "John McCain and Barack Obama are alike calling for an end to angry partisan bickering. Both promise a new spirit of working with others across the political spectrum to solve the major problems facing our nation." And yet I hear Obama misrepresent what John McCain says and refer to him as McBush. I would like to see "change" actually begin and be practiced during the campaign. Fourth Favorite: A superb article, well thought out. I think part of the problem of sideliners is that we see so many "causes" that are good and worthy of attention. But they appear to be just another cause. We are discouraged from all the years of battling and not seeing results. I personally do many acts of kindness and know that I am making a difference to a few people. But to get involved in another cause sounds futile. The story of the cistern, however, is making me rethink this. Thanks so much. Pauline K. Kezer: "When you do nothing you feel overwhelmed and powerless. But when you get involved, you feel the sense of hope and accomplishment that comes from knowing you are working to make things better." On Leaving the Church Stanley: Why I Don't Quit the Chuch: (May 29, 2008) By now everyone paying attention has long since heard Barack Obama’s reasons for staying in his church despite his then-pastor’s outlandish accusations against the United States. When Rev. Wright later stirred the hornets nest yet a second time, adding verbal slams against Obama to his previous rantings, Obama denounced him. But Obama continued to stand by his church. Many citizens wonder whether that proves Obama himself to be deeply flawed. Their ultimate conclusions about that issue may determine whether or not Obama becomes president of the United States of America.
Meanwhile, Obama would not be out of step if he not only quit his church but gave up on churches in general. According to the Pew Forum’s US Religious Landscape Survey, the fastest growing religious category in America is “unaffiliated.” Even many who still consider themselves believers have turned away from “organized religion.”
Many drop out because their personal expectations are disappointed. They have a debilitating illness and beyond initially receiving a card or flowers they don’t hear much from their church. They get divorced or arrested and are thereafter considered damaged goods. They are on a low rung of the social ladder, and feel that successful people are favored over them. They have little money or talent to offer, and perceive that they don’t count for much. They get turned off by in-fighting among church members.
A second source of dissatisfaction with the churches is what may come to be known as the “Obama’s pastor syndrome”--the church has glaring inconsistencies with regard to practicing the faith. The church rails against the wicked behavior of others but is blind to its own. Many churches are anything but charitable toward those who differ with them on issues, even though the Bible says that the greatest commandment of all is to love God and to love one’s neighbor.
No wonder people give up on the church. When I have been most disillusioned with it, however, one consideration has kept me from quitting. Namely, I have seen the arrogance and pride involved in writing off my fellow believers en masse.
Are they a flawed bunch? Yes!
And I am not flawed?
I resent it when people act like others are not good enough for them. Now am I going to act like they are not good enough for me? That seems awfully much like the unlove I object to in them.
Furthermore, a person alienated from his peers is likely to become an unhappy, bitter, and warped individual. A new study out of Australia suggests we’d all best pause before we write off traditional religion. Dr. Rosemary Lyn Aird of Queensland University studied 8,458 mothers and their children over a period of 21 years. Her thesis entitled “Religion, Spirituality, and Mental Health and Social Behavior in Young Adults” concludes that rejecting traditional religion in favor of individual “spirituality” is associated with “poor mental health and aberrant behavior.” She reports that those who embrace “do-it-yourself spirituality” are significantly more paranoid and narcissistic than those in traditional religions.
Instead of writing off organized religion, here’s a better idea. Let’s call on our churches and synagogues to make a new commitment to their own creeds. Who better to nurture love for ones neighbors than followers of the historic Judeo-Christian faiths? Both Judaism and Christianity declare that our number one duty to each other is, “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18; Matthew 22:37-40).
Organized religion has done some awful things over the centuries. It remains deeply flawed today. But there’s nothing wrong with its core teaching that we must love God and love our neighbors. That’s traditional religion’s basic commandment, and something we need more of, not less.
(Stanley Baldwin is president of Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Humans (SPCH). Read about the Society’s emerging partnership with churches to nurture neighbor love at http://preventcrueltytohumans.com/churchpartners.aspx. For the full report of the Pew Forum US Religious Landscape Survey go to http://religions.pewforum.org/reports.)
Joyce: I am so grateful that the description of the churches (unresponsive to needs etc) does not fit my little church here in the northeast Georgia "mountains". Our mission statement reads "God calls us to welcome all people and to equip them to become disciples who use their gifts to serve Christ by serving others." I have to search to find a person who is not living by that statement . . . welcoming (and loving them) and serving. My step-son has been in the hospital with MRSA (antibiotic resistant staph in his lungs) pneumonia, and a possibility of lung cancer. Still cannot get a diagnosis after many pathologists and radiologists getting their heads together. His lungs are in such bad shape that he likely cannot have a portion of lung removed, for there would not be enough lung left for him to survive, except for being on a ventilator. THE CHURCH IS BEING THE CHURCH, THANK GOD! He lives next door to me. His wife has been "out of town" for nearly 5 years (it is hard to call her a wife after all this) and with his MRSA, she can't come home for her own immune system is challenged. So I am the only family here to take him to doctors, hospital, etc. I have had fevers for over a year from an encounter with copious slime from a bullfrog that hit me in the face. When fevers occur, my face swells where the frog struck, and his handprint is visible just below my eye . . . so there is no doubt it is connected. If I were to get MRSA from helping him, I'd be in deep trouble. But what can I do? I trust in God to keep me safe, and I take all the precautions I can. And I take care of him. My pastor was an RN before she was a pastor. She says I'm the best caregiver she has ever encountered. Perhaps that is my gift. But today I am tired and need to be aware of the demands my own body is making. If I become ill, my step-son and I are both in trouble. I desperately want to return to writing, but life keeps getting in the way. I thought I'd be free to write after my husband died. So far, only an occasional devotional, PLUS the Sunday School lessons I write for the Sunday School class I teach. I'm 72. God is going to have to keep me here another 20 years to do what I feel led to do. He is able to do that, too, if it is His will. Thanks for your thought-provoking article.
ON ABUSE: First posted March 26, 2008 Kristin: Our society is full of spouses, most often women, who act out their partners' insanity. They cover their heads and crouch to take the hateful blows again and again, locked into idiocy; they've unknowingly contracted to be their husbands' Fools, so they stay to be abused. Male fools live with their wives insane spending habits and slovenly behavior. And the children of these crazy partnerships emerge as full-blown Fools, seeking their Lear, their abuser. In Shakespeare's King Lear, only after the Fool disappears do we realize that Lear is mad. The Fool acts out Lear's craziness until then. Anonymous: When I try to mentally picture women who have been sexually abused by men in their family, I pray for them, that they would be able to forgive the men, especially as the men become elderly and unable to care for themselves. As these strong women forgive the men, they are then able to treat the male members of their families with compassion and strength. The abusive men may then be seen as only elderly men, unable to hurt any longer. The women have not been treated biblically by the older men, but they can take on Christ's compassion in order to respond biblically to the elderly. Stanley: Kristin and "Anonymous" seem to have quite different takes on the subject of abuse. Kristin pictures a woman who tolerates abuse as essentially weak and enslaved. "Anonymous" characterizes women who forgive their abusers as strong. But while these views may seem to conflict, I think both are correct. Nobody should tolerate abuse and thereby perpetuate the destructive interaction that entails, so Kristin is correct and her insight is one that is desperately needed. But while one can and should refuse to tolerate abuse, one cannot change the past or undo what has been done. One can only be held captive to the past or transcend it. "Anonymous" sounds as if she has transcended it and chosen to forgive. Jane: Boy! Anonymous REALLY has forgiving heart. I think few people could be so forgiving. Maybe those abused wives dream of the time when their husband will be at THEIR mercy. Yes, mercy; and it's only a godly person who can be merciful, being kind to the cruel, and praying for those who despitefully use you. I believe that a woman who tolerates abuse may not necessarily be weak, but actually could be strong, because she endures the abuse and keeps going. Sometimes it might be easy to leave. I know some Christian women who stay because they made a covenant, and suffer to honor it. ... This is a difficult subject to fold up and put neatly into a box. Scott's blog. Posted February 5, 2008 I was raised in a home with a dad who was a mean drunk and a mom who was overwhelmed with work, kids and a drunk for a husband. I had five siblings. Four sisters and one brother. My mother worked nights and my dad more often than not, in my memory, would be at the tavern. We kids would sit in the dark in the living room and have a lookout posted to keep watch for my dad coming home. When a car was spotted coming down the road a shout would ring out, "Here comes a car," to which the television was shut off until either an all clear was signaled or a confirmation came that it was Dad. If it was Dad we scattered like mice to our rooms and pretended to be asleep. We ran out of fear because my dad couldn't just come in and pass out or be drunkenly playful. No, my dad would dredge up old perceived offenses and decide that we had not been punished enough for them. Often he would drag one of us out of bed for a beating while the rest cowered in our rooms. There was no hugging in my family and nobody uttered the words 'I love you.' My wife and I have made a point of having lots of hugs and I love you's in our home. I still struggle with the trauma of my upbringing and I am sure that I am not the best dad out there, but by God's grace I am not raising my children in the same way. I realize that my dad was not a Christ believer and I know that he was searching for help. He at one time went to Catholic classes to learn about God and I believe even became baptized into the Catholic church. I often pray that my dad found the Lord before he died when I was 16. While I have much sympathy for my mother who was beaten often herself, I still have a hard time wondering why she didn't leave my dad, with us in tow. I know times were different then and a mother on her own with six kids would have been tough but.......??? I try not to think about the what if's. Comments: Jill: Scott's blog makes me want to cry and to strangle somebody all at the same time. The picture of those six children hiding from their father, being dragged from their beds and beaten! I just don't know what to say. Corinne: I only hope and pray that Scott's story might reach the eyes and ears and hearts of other dads that are like his was. The Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Humans should broadcast it from the housetops. AnnaLouise: Scott's blog makes me feel fortunate in my upbringing. Yet sadness and anger arise for the little boy, and many others like him, who lost their childhood in an onslaught of fearsome cruelty and danger from those who should be protecting them as stewards of their heavenly Father. I wonder if his siblings fared as well as he seems to have done. Scott, I am so proud of you that by the grace of God, you have broken out of that vicious cycle of abuse and are bringing love and hugs to your family. Praise God! May he continue to bring healing to the past, and rich testimony to others through your life. Julie: On the other hand, I was raised in a family that, I'm told, never existed. Cynics today claim there never were any families like those depicted in Ozzie and Harriet, Leave It to Beaver, and Father Knows Best. Yet I know what I, and many of my girlfriends, experienced in the fifties and sixties--the love of a close-knit family with grandparents who cared about us and were involved in our lives. My Dad was hardworking and my Mom was ever present, ever encouraging, and ever loving. Maybe it's not possible in today's culture and economy to have such tight families, however, please don't believe those who say they never existed. Because they did.
Scott: (Again): I have been coaching youth sports for many years now and I have seen close-knit families even in today's society. I had a girl on one team whose parents, and both sets of grandparents, came to every game. One of the grandmothers even brought cookies for the team every game. The sad thing was that on that same team I had a girl from the other spectrum. She came to every practice and game without any parents coming to watch. I asked her one day if her mom or dad were going to come to a game and she said, "No. They don't like softball." Talk about missing the point.
I told that girl it said volumes about her that she still came to games and practices on her own and that I was proud of her determination. Still makes me teary thinking about it. So, Julie, I too know those families existed, I just think we have become so jaded by the callousness around us that we forget. I really feel sympathy for the children being raised by self-serving parents who think only of their own needs, desires and happiness. I actually have sympathy for the parents as well because of the joy they miss out on actually doing the hard work of raising their children. Annalouise's blog. Posted January 29, 2008. Reader comments follow. My parents managed my life too much. In their attempts to protect me, they squelched any budding self-assurance, and any hope to be someone extraordinary when I grew up.
For example, at a school gathering with my parents, I saw the parents of a friend and suggested we go talk to them. My mom’s response: “Oh, they are busy, they probably don’t want to talk to us.” Did she fear that as farmers we were on a lower social rung? For years I told myself that same thing.
I would draw a rabbit and say I wanted to be an artist when I grew up. She would say, “To be an artist you have to be born with such talent!”
When something was wrong in our life as a family, it was kept from me.
Always the message was: you aren’t equal to anything beyond life’s most minimal demands.
So, like my mom, I learned to play piano, but it never became my joy. I went to the same college she had and became a school teacher. I enjoyed teaching, but something creative in me still desired to reach out and touch others—through music, through art, through dance, through poetry, through who knows what else? Only the tender heart of my loving heavenly Father.
My parents loved me. I just wish they hadn’t expected me to conform to their constricted idea of what life could be. I wish we all might have risen above the inherited culture from our ancestors, which never really allowed us to show affection for each other. I wish we could have opened up to each other while my dad was still alive. Oh, to hug him just once!
COMMENTS: Conrad: I guess Annalouise's parents' style in rearing her was cruel in its effects. Obviously, it produced some emotional suffering on her part and also hindered her development. I don't sense any bitterness in what she writes here though--only sadness. And that seems right, since her parents evidently did the best they could and she admits they loved her. To me, the real message of her blog is that we need to be whole and healthy people ourselves because our parenting--and our children--will be affected for the better or the worse by our own condition of soul. Dauphine: I'd like to say to Annalouise that it's never too late to express her creative side. Grandma Moses became a famous painter late in life. Furthermore, even if her creative work never achieves fame, it expresses who she is and should be nurtured. Jill: I'd like to know if Annalouise ever overcame her own growing-up difficulties when raising her own children. Sometimes we can be strongest where we were once weakest. Are Annalouise's children growing up in a home where affection is freely expressed and they are encouraged to reach for the stars? Annalouise Reply: Feb. 4, 2008 Our early years involved emotional trauma. I have few specific memories of the time but now wonder what my parents went through. My only brother died at age three of a heart condition (I was 5), and according to an aunt, during that time of grave concern all the attention was focused on my brother, and I was often left out. Perhaps that is why I have a tendency at times to be a loner, and at other times to crave fellowship. That same aunt laughingly tells of a time when I was crying and her daughter, just 8 days older than me asked "What not they let you do now, Net?" My brother's death left me an only child, the object of much attention and expectations. I remember going around the neighborhood telling the old timers that we had lost my brother, and yet I did not accept that he was gone for a long time. Now, I can hardly wait to see him when we all get to heaven! I have recently asked my mom what she went through, but she only remembers it was hard. Because of this, and their tendency to face things stoicly, I'm sure my parents were emotionally exhausted. My parents were strict with high expectations academically and how we appeared to others, but were not unyielding, and had their own ways of enriching my life. In High School, I had the privilege of inviting about 6 girlfriends, to have dinner and go see a musical at local little theater. My dad had a wonderful sense of humor and was remembered for his big singing voice. I can still hear his big bass voice behind me in choir and wish somewhere I could hear those renditions again. My mom sat up making prom or Easter dresses or helping me with sewing projects and baking Christmas cookies. Although I remember watching television together, I do not remember having deep talks with either of them. This may be partly me. I still have difficulty expressing my ideas verbally. (On paper I tend to ramble on.) To answer Jill, I know I have overcome some of these difficulties in raising my own children. For one thing, We are all great huggers. I loved nursing my babies & toddlers. It was a time of close bonding that carried us through the turbulent two's and teens. When they drew pictures we praised the meticulously colored spaces in one, the fantastic shoelaces in another. In homeschooling them, I encouraged them to spend more time on their own interests: with my eldest it was gymnastics, with my petitfleur it was music, and with my youngest it was math, and just learning in his own way. All three are musical and can carry a tune. I would have loved to be a musical family but that was not the joy of each. However, when my daughter, whose musicality hummed through at 6 months old, balked at piano lessons, I encouraged her to try another instrument. My mom's father was a 1st chair violinist in Norway before moving to America. Tragically, his violin career had been cut short by an elbow injury, yet, I never knew this until after he died. To me he was a man who said little, loved music and played the banjo. I encouraged my daughter to try the violin, like her grandfather - She loved it from day one and never had to be coaxed to practice. However fiddling is more her bent than the classical music my grandfather loved. Later, encouraged by my story of an uncle who left me $100 to buy something I did not need (a guitar I enjoyed playing), she also decided to try the guitar alongside others in her youth group. I would have been too intimidated to try this as a teenager, but she has more self assurance. However, I am tempted to try the violin myself and see if I inherited any talent in this area. I still struggle with issues of self esteem, and wonder when there is a problem with my children (now adults) what I did wrong. We all need to remember that God created us with a free will, and a God-given bent. We need to train up children according to their bent. As the Good Book says, let go, pray a lot, and realize that as they grow they will not depart from it. I've been encouraged to see this happening. My parents did not impart their faith verbally, but by example. Sometimes the example built character, as when expectations were not pleasurable to this outwardly compliant and obedient but sometimes inwardly defiant child. And other times the example brought questions as to their inconsistency. But this is another story and this reply is already too long, as is characteristic for me. But on an encouraging note. . . My 94 year old Mom and I hug greetings now and are able to speak of spiritual things. So it is never too late! Stanley's blog. (posted Jan. 22, 2008) When Your Children Screw Up Two very different reactions of parents to a child's misdeeds are described in different chapters of my book: A Funny Thing Happened On My Way to Save Civilization. The first was in chapter 3 and involves a major gaffe of mine as a boy. One day my dad complained that some kids must have been playing in the potato patch because someone had blocked the flow of water to a section of it. The patch was only a few blocks from our house, so I appointed my then eight-year-old self to monitor it. Sure enough, I went to the far bottom end of the patch one day and found a ditch closed. I dug out the dirt and made sure the water flowed free again.
The next day brought big trouble. The low-lying house of a neighbor just adjacent to the potato patch had flooded during the night. My dad hit the ceiling. Those kids! Not only had they endangered his crop by blocking off the water but now they had opened a ditch and flooded the neighbor’s house. And my dad was responsible!
Not able to vanish into thin air and unable to think of anyone who would quickly adopt me, I figured I had better tell my dad the truth. He believed me that I had only been trying to help, but he pointed out that my good intentions did nothing to dry out the neighbors’ house. I would have to go with him to the neighbors and see what we could do to make things right.
You can only imagine the dread with which I walked beside my father to the neighbors’ house that day. I wondered what the man would do to me, and maybe even to my dad. I felt a little better when the man who came to the door was almost a head shorter than my dad, carrying a paunch and obviously out of shape. I knew the man wouldn’t stand a chance if they came to blows.
My father was apologetic and offered to do whatever he could to make amends. He explained the problem he had been having with kids playing in the patch and diverting water. The man looked at me suspiciously. “Is this the kid who did it?” he asked.
I could scarcely believe my ears when my dad replied, “No, no, this is my son. He’s a good boy. In fact, he has been trying to keep an eye on the patch for me. But now I’ll have to build a fence and put up no-trespassing signs.”
Neither my dad nor I ever said another word about the incident, but I knew I had a staunch defender in him and one who would stand by me when I got into difficulty. It was a kindness I determined not to abuse.
The second incident (adapted from chapter 7) was provided by Adele Hooker: A man at the grocery store checkout sent his seven-to eight-year-old son back to the dairy case to get a dozen eggs. The boy returned, accidentally dropped the eggs, and the man berated him. “I ought to make you get down on the floor and lick up that mess,” he stormed. One of the dads described above suffered major loss but still treated his son kindly. The other was mildly inconvenienced and reacted in a way that surely traumatized his son, maybe for life. What should be done to such a father? What likely will be done? What shall I think about my Dad telling a lie in this situation? COMMENTS: Anonymous: My friend and I stole a case of beer, hid it in a creek. My Dad found it and turned us into the authorities. He also took me down to the little country store where we stole it. I knew them since I was a little boy. Went to court and the judge sentenced us to six months of working for the store; cutting lawn, painting, any kind of labor. My Dad was extremely honest. I was extremely embarrassed. I learned then, in my Dad's eyes, I was responsible for my own actions. Mary Grant: I was fortunate to have been born into a Christian home. At the time of growing up, I always thought my folks were too strict but looking back now on my childhood I realize they were not. When I graduated and left home, I rebelled against Christianity, several years went by and God put me under conviction; I returned to Church. God never left me but I left Him. Now when I hear of parents not making their children go to church I feel bad for them because I know by my parents making me go when I didn't want to was part of what made me return.
Jim Stair: Once when I was a youth I was feeling like I wanted to do more with my dad, so I asked him if we could go fishing the next Saturday though I knew full well that he was used to putting in overtime at the office on Saturdays. As I expected, when Saturday rolled around, my dad headed out the door to work. I reminded him we were going fishing. My mom jumped into the discussion on my side, but not before I had run out the door in tears. I am embarrassed to say that I saw him following me but I was ornery enough to run fast and keep him from catching up to me. When I got to the park, I continued running and hid in the woods. He called and called, but I didn't answer. In my mind he was only doing this because he had promised. If he really wanted to spend time with me, he wouldn't have forgotten to begin with. I spent a miserable time by myself fishing after my dad went home, but I think we both learned a lesson. Decades later after I was an adult, I had a time of prayer with my parents in which they asked my forgiveness and I asked theirs for all the ways we had given each other grief. How much better it would have been if we had been able to keep short accounts.
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